Vunajan du Sa
by Firefly Rebirth
Summary: Happiness... Is it always fleeting? Or can Yuna finally reclaim the love she had lost? Will Lulu and Wakka overcome the forces of nature that challenge them? Will Rikku find a way to bring her happiness to others? Remember: 'You're forever to me.'
1. Prologue

Vunajan du Sa

(forever to me)

            _This story begins with the ending of FFX International…  I personally have this on my computer, from the ever-convenient source of KaZaA.  I believe the English script translation came from the GIA, and the subtitles were added by a kindly person named Tenka.  For those of you who do not wish for the 167MB download, I have taken the opportunity  to write it up, from the actual footage and helpful subtitles.  A few creative liberties have been taken (I have added insights into the character and a bit of narration on Spira's current state).  As always, Square=god, I=peasant.  Here goes…_

- - -

FFX: Another Story

            _37, 38, 39, 40, 41…_

            The woman's vision blurred and she knew that she had had enough.  Gasping for air, she broke the surface.  The calls of the sea gulls flooded into her ears as the strong smell of salt water met her nostrils.  The bright sun that had heated the sea now danced on her wet brown hair as she paddled to keep her slim body afloat.

            _Two minutes, forty-one seconds!  A new high!_ she exclaimed to herself inside her head, proud.  The water before her was a lively sea-green color.  Yes, the sea was alive with plants and animals now, beautiful and green.  It had nothing to fear any longer.

            "Yuna!  C'mon!" came the deep voice of a familiar friend.  Yuna spun to see Wakka waving at her enthusiastically.

            "Be right there!"  Yuna waded from the depths of the beautiful ocean.  There was nothing more wonderful than that coast, alive with life.

Wakka watched her thoughtfully, crossing his arms across his chest.  "Pretty good at holding your breath now, ya?"

            "Not as good as you!" giggled the former summoner.

            Flushed with embarrassment, he admitted, "Yeah, well, I haven't even practiced recently."

            "You sure look it!" she teased playfully, her blue and green eyes curving into cute little half moons as she poked his pudgy stomach.  "It's not like you're the one having a baby!"

            He sighed, feeling happy at Yuna's warm smile, but slightly humiliated at his own faults.  The man spun and waved, leaving Yuna to her thoughts for a moment.

            The brunette paused to stare out at the ocean.  However, she was looking at the past this time, and not the bright future.  _It's been two years since then_, she thought, since the defeat of Sin.  _I can hold my breath for two whole minutes now.  It takes more than just physical strength, there's a few tricks to it that you need to figure out.  I didn't understand when it was explained in words, but after a lot of practice I finally got it.  I'd never thought there was any kind of trick to it._

_            I couldn't afford to think about anything back then_, she reminded herself.

            _The Eternal Calm_, she thought, returning to the present.  _It's my two minutes and forty-one seconds and Wakka's pudgy stomach.  It's not much, just a quiet kind of happiness._

            She turned and jogged all the way back to Besaid Village.  Home.

            Yuna approached the temple a bit more slowly.  She caught her breath, nodded to her fellow villagers politely, and carefully walked up the steps to the scarcely populated building.  Two years ago, this had been the busiest spot for miles.  Temple staff and loyal worships flowed through the open doorway.

            Now, people gathered to argue over Spira's future in the town square.  Sometimes these debates resulted in almost violent arguments.  Some former Crusaders, now serving as local guards, would have to intervene.

            Yuna finally reached the bare temple, entering the darkened interior.  She walked forward slowly, toward the spot where Wakka and an older gentleman were talking by the twin flames on the opposite side of the room.  The man paid his respects to the High Summoner, and the three convened in the dimly lit center of the intricately decorated floor.

            The man was in awe.  "I saw you from a distance in the stadium two years ago," he began, "…but I never thought I'd get to see you in person."  Age had curved his spine, and he bent over slightly, a bit more as he talked with enthusiasm.  "You're as beautiful as ever…" he commented, the words from his heart going straight over his lips.

            "Thank you," she said, nodding courteously to her elder.  Her pink cheeks went unnoticed in the dark.  She really must stop being flattered like this…

            The man continued, revealing the purpose of his visit.  "I have a favor to ask about my grandson."  He paused momentarily.  "He's joined up with the Young Persons' Alliance.  Now, not to say the Alliance is bad in and of itself…but me and the missus are both with New Yevon.  My son and daughter-in-law too."

            "My grandson used to come to our meetings, too, but one day he just…  There's a lot of young folks in the Alliance, so I'm sure it's exciting for him, but still…"  He continued as Yuna's mind reviewed the state of the world.

            _A number of groups have formed across Spira since then.  How should we build this new world?  What should Spira be like in the future?  Everyone is looking for their own path._

            Yuna heard the old man's voice again.  "I feel that…my grandson and his companions are moving too quickly," he said.

            _With so many different ways of thinking, at times conflict is inevitable.  Some people are uncomfortable with the new way of things.  Honestly, I am too, sometimes…_ Yuna thought.  It was strange to add herself into her thoughts.  Usually, she only considered the rest of the world.  Now she thought about how far Spira had come in two years.  _But this is good enough for now.  That's what I keep telling myself._

            She opened her mouth to voice her decision on the matter.  "I understand your feelings," she explained.  "But try talking it over with your grandson.  His actions may appear reckless to you, but his feelings for Spira are the same as your own."

            The old man was shocked for a second, but then he bowed his head and considered the words.  He said nothing.  Perhaps he saw what she meant and felt bad for judging his grandson so harshly.  Or, instead, he did not understand yet, and was ashamed for that.  Or, still yet, he disagreed, but could not show defiance to the lady summoner.

            Whatever it was, he bowed and left, bent over slightly, walking in a careful, steady manner.

            Later that morning, Yuna decided to walk again towards the beach.  She walked along the path by the waterfalls, witnessing their splendor happily, even it was the hundredth or thousandth time she had been this way.  The melody of the water, the birds, and the rustling leaves was a warm and happy one.  She adored it.  It was like a favorite song that a person never tires of it, no matter how many times they hear it.

            She was actually hurrying a little, because before, at the village, she thought she heard the sounds of a ship coming up to the port.  There weren't many ships that stopped in Besaid.  None that sounded like an Al-Bhed ship, anyway.

            "He-ey!" called a voice.  But it was Wakka, running up from behind.

            Yuna stopped on the bridge, a bit worried.  "Who is it?  A visitor?" she anticipated.

            Out of breath, Wakka replied, "Ya, you know how it is."  He wondered if Yuna had been running to escape her line of endless visitors.  "The village geezers are shooting their mouths off about that again…"

            Yuna turned, placing her hands behind her back.  "Who is it this time?"

            "The son of the head of New Yevon," the former blitzer replied.

            "No way.  I'd probably just end up being used by him."  Yuna now had the capacity to make these sorts of decisions in a snap.  She had been through dealings with too many suitors to put any trust in their promises and ideals.

            Wakka grunted.  "Man…sorry, Yuna."  He was only starting to consider what Yuna went through day in and day out.  It was easier not to think about her tough life, maybe.

            "I'll go turn them down," the woman announced.

            "No way, I got it."  He felt guilty.  He thought about Yuna's compassion.  "I mean, you don't wanna hafta see their frowning faces, do ya?"

            "…Right."

            A man suddenly came running up.  Apparently, he had followed Wakka here.  "Lady Yuna!" he cried, broadcasting his presence.  He finally reached them, and saluted at his shoulder.  A Crusader?  "Lady Yuna!" he said again, "I am Yeivel of the Young Persons' Alliance!  I have come to deliver a message from our leader Nurge!"

            Stepping forward protectively, Wakka told him, "She's not joining the Alliance."

            "But…" the surprised young man replied, the determination in his voice slipping away.

            "Is that why you came?" called Yuna from a few feet behind Wakka.

            "…Yes, it is."

            "I'm not going to join with any group," Yuna explained to the disappointed fellow. 

            "Are you perhaps going to form your own group?" he wondered.

            Facing away, she managed to say forcefully, "Please leave."  Her expression was somber.  She did not like to let people down one bit.  Her greatest joy was to bring happiness to others.

            "Yuna!  Wakka!" screeched a high-pitched voice.  The ever-hyper Al-Bhed Rikku came running up, breathing hard.  She halted and scratched her face, curious about the three people's solemn faces, and the awkwardness in the air.

            At Rikku's prodding, Wakka and Yuna accompanied her to her great metal vessel.  Yuna could only smile at the cheerfulness of her younger cousin.  _Rikku sometimes comes by Besaid Island.  She travels about Spira, teaching people to use machines, excavating old machines from underground or underwater…  She's awfully busy, but she seems to be enjoying herself._

            As Wakka and Yuna strode across the deck, Rikku ran up to them and cheered happily.  She scampered right up to Wakka and elbowed his stomach, giggling.

            "Stop that!" protested Wakka.  He crossed his arms and faced away, indignant.

            Rikku placed her hands behind her head and leaned back.  "Quite the tummy you've got now!" she observed.  "How's Lulu?"

            Wakka faced her again, since they were off the sensitive subject of his stomach.  "She's in the village.  Go say 'hi' later, ya?"  He was concerned about Lulu not getting out much.

            "Of course!" the little thief retorted, casual.  She turned to her cousin.  "And Yunie, same as always, huh?"

            "That's right.  Same as always."  Yuna had a quiet kind of look about her, like she was embarrassed to talk about herself.  She looked up towards the blue sky, using one arm to shield her eyes from the hot, yellow-white sun.  A sea gull circled overhead.

            "So Kimahri's still at Mt. Gagazet, huh?" Wakka wanted to know.

            "You betcha!" declared Rikku.  "He's teaching the Ronso children tons of stuff.  He's really quite the teacher!"  Rikku gave a jump of realization and began digging in her pockets.  "Anyway, I got something from Kimahri for you."

            Yuna and Wakka watched, intrigued.

            Rikku began to dig more fervently.  "Said he found it up on the mountain."  She finally drew the object out for them to see.

            "A sphere?" Yuna asked, her eyes taking it in.

            "Weird shape, huh?" the man thought.

            "Look closely, Yunie," Rikku instructed, activating the sphere.

            The scene was white, and then it went fuzzy, like a tape skipping.  There were lines of white and black crisscrossing with static roaring in the background.

            "What the hell did I get arrested for?!  Let me go already!" screeched a voice, hoarse with yelling and contorted by the poor quality of the recording.  The image was fuzzy—blue, with some sea greens and grays all tumbling together to make a confusing picture.  Then yellow lines appeared, thick and vertical.  A figure was vague, round, and blue.

            Soon, the figure, a man, was the only thing on the screen, seen from below.  "You hear me, don't you?" he demanded.  "What'd you think if it was your girl?"  The image scrambled again, the picture breaking and reappearing several times throughout.   "Who cares if I used the enemy's machina?"

            Now the figure, a bit clearer, was viewed from behind.  He slammed against the confining bars with his fists.  "It was the only way to save the Summoner!" he cried, his frustration rising even higher.

            "What would you have done instead?!"  It was his face, though blurry.  He was still trying to break out somehow.  His demonstration was unending.  "Let me out of here!"  His hair was light and it curved outward from the top of his head.  His left cheek was illuminated from the bottom.  "Let me out of here!  Let me see her!"

            And then the lines were gray and white and they filled up the whole image.  It was the end.

            Yuna was in a state of shock.  _A voice…a voice that has been close by for what seemed like forever…_  Her eyes were fixed on the deep sapphire of the ocean.  She could hardly process her own realizations.

            "What's this about?"  Obviously, Wakka had a hard time coming to terms with this, too.  "What's he doing there?  Is that really him?  What's this all about?"

            Rikku's eyes sparkled, and she swayed from side to side.  Her little dances were a sure sign of ideas flying between her brain cells.  "I don't really know…" she began coyly, "but you want to find out, don't you?"

            "Well, yeah!"  But Wakka didn't seem as sure as his words.

            "Yes," Yuna said.  She was momentarily unreadable.

            "Then let's go!" Rikku cried.

            "Where to?" the brown-haired woman wondered, holding her hands in front of her.

            "No idea!" admitted the Al-Bhed with a grin.  "Let's go to Kimahri first and think about it then, okay?"  She seemed proud of her suggestion.

            Wakka scratched the back of his head.  "But we don't know anything!  Shouldn't we look into it a little first?"

            "And just who's going to find it out for us?" demanded Rikku, pointing at him accusingly.  She wouldn't let him stop this.  This was for Yuna's sake.

            "Leave it to us!" cried a male voice.

            The three turned to see the man from before, Yeivel.  Had he followed them again?

            "Our leader Nurge should agree as well!  I'll convince him myself!" he proclaimed.

            "Get outta here!" Wakka yelled.  He didn't like being spied on.

            "Y-yessir!  I'll return as soon as something has been learned!"  He bowed to Yuna and sprinted off, leaving Wakka and the others a bit puzzled and frustrated.

            Rikku stepped up, again wrapping her hands behind her head.  "I think that Yunie ought to go for herself," she announced.

            "That's impossible," Wakka told her.

            "Why's that?"  Her arms moved down to crisscross her chest.

            Yuna turned and stared at the sea, uncomfortable as Wakka threw himself into his explanation.

            "The next three months are completely booked.  Everyone wants to meet Yuna."

            "And what about what Yunie wants!" interrupted the girl, a fist planted firmly on her hip.

            "Well, y'know…"  Wakka didn't have an answer.  He turned his head towards the deck, unable to endure Rikku's menacing glare.  "Someday, when the world's settled down and all…"

            Rikku's mood became red-hot.  Furious, she screamed out, "Whaddya mean, someday?  What's the matter with you, Wakka?"  She felt herself trembling.  "Yunie always worked so hard, she should only have to worry about herself now, so why?!"

            Wakka's face was grim.  Her words rang true in his heart, and it hurt.  Yes, it was harder to consider Yuna's feelings…

            "Every time I come here, I always think about how everyone's finding their own happiness…" Rikku told him, watching as Yuna simply stood there with her back to her friends.  "Except for Yuna."

            "Well, that's…" shrugged Wakka.

            Yuna nearly pounced atop him.  "Has your head gone as soft as your belly?!"  She spun to confront Yuna on the Summoner's feelings.  "Yunie!"

            "I…" she began.   _I want to go_, she thought.  _But, if I leave, I may disappoint people.  I…_

            And then she heard her memories calling out to her.  She heard Tidus calling out to her.  _'Well, if acting grown up means not being able to say what I want, then screw it!  Nothing'll change that way!'_  The birds overhead flew together, free and happy.

            Yuna acknowledged this voice and smiled, just a little.  "I'll go," she told Rikku and Wakka, facing them with as much confidence as she could dig up from within herself.  It was difficult to tell everyone what she really desired.  It was difficult to tell herself.

            "Yuna!" Wakka exclaimed, his mind groping for good words to dissuade her.

            Rikku breathed a sigh of relief.

            "After all," Yuna managed to say, feeling a bit better with each word that came out, "this is my story."

            Rikku's green, spiraled eyes practically glowed.  "Ha!  I knew you'd say that, so I went ahead and brought some stuff for you."  She scampered down the ship to open up the cabin.

            Yuna chuckled.  Did Rikku know more about what was in her heart than she herself did?

            "Oh no…" Wakka mumbled, one large, tanned hand holding his forehead as he shook his head back and forth.

            "First off, we gotta get you into some new clothes!" Rikku was saying, digging in her pile of stuff.  "You're famous, after all, so you'd better go undercover!"  This idea seemed to excite the girl very much, and she came forward and smiled brighter than the sun.

            Wakka finally managed to come across an idea.  "J-just a sec, ya?  Lemme go get Lu."  Pleased with this thought, he ran off without another word to the two ladies.  Instead, he muttered to himself about how he was going to get Yuna out of this mess.

            Yuna smiled and gazed at the blue sky and the warm white clouds.  _The Eternal Calm.  It's my two minutes and forty-one seconds and Wakka's pudgy stomach.  It's a small and quiet kind of happiness…_  She held her hand to her heart.  _But…  I guess I can ask for a little more, can't I?_

            Rikku's enthusiasm was now swelling up in Yuna's heart.  She knew that Wakka and Lulu might be along soon, and that they would try to stop her.  She knew that going back to the village might change her mind if she saw all the people she was to talk to, all the responsibilities.  "Rikku, let's get going!"

            She and Rikku hurried to the interior of the ship.  Rikku gave the signal to her crewmen, and the Al-Bhed ship rumbled as the gears started churning.  A horn blared and the ship retreated from the harbor.  This new journey had begun…

- - -


	2. Memories and Observations

- - -

            "Yuna!  Yuna!" screamed the raven-haired woman, nearly stumbling off the edge of the dock.  On the horizon, she saw the large gray blob of a ship fade from view.

            She was…too late.

            "Lu!" exclaimed Wakka, running to her side.  He was horrified to find her on her knees, leaning heavily on the palms of her hands.  "Lu, you—"

            "She's gone," muttered Lulu in her deep voice.  She stared down toward her pale fingers, but she really didn't see anything.  "Yuna…"

            "We're not guardians anymore, ya?" Wakka said, not caring to mention his own feelings: anger, disappointment, and guilt.  "There's no Summoners, no aeons, no pilgrimages…"

            Lulu breathed heavily.  Her round belly almost touched the ground in her present fetal position.  _If only I could have run faster…_  It wasn't the first time she had regretted becoming pregnant.  It was more than encumbering.  A burden?  No…  She wouldn't answer that question.  She could not think of the baby growing inside of her…like that.

            _You poor baby_, she thought, speaking to the little soul in her womb.  _I am sorry that I am your mother.  You deserve a lot better._

            "You'd better get back in bed," Wakka suggested, but it was more like an order.  Yes, he did not like seeing Lulu cooped up inside all day.  It just was unavoidable.  Like Yuna's duties…

            "Let me watch the waves a little while, Wakka," Lulu said, trying to hide the effort it took to talk.

            "Awight, but I'm right here," Wakka relented after pondering what was best.  Just sitting here, watching the waves…  That wouldn't be so bad.

            Lulu leaned to one side and then the other, slipping her legs from underneath to hang off the edge of the dock.  Her feet almost touched the water.  It was high tide.

            Wakka plopped down next to her in his usual oafish manner.  It didn't put Lulu off like it used to; instead, it was a comfort.  Wakka was just thick-headed enough to be cute…sometimes.

            Neither of them said anything for a while.  Wakka watched Lulu with a mixture of awe, concern, and love.  He liked Lu just like this:  her clothes a long black skirt, a deep gray sleeveless shirt.  Her long hair the color of midnight came down her back in one big braid, and he could see clearly her two beautiful eyes.  The best part of her looks, he thought, was her round stomach—much more clearly defined than his.  Here was where his child was growing.

            Wakka reached out his hand and slipped some of the loose hair behind Lulu's left ear.  He planted a soft, wet kiss right on her cheek.  "Lu," he whispered, and it was enough to convey all of his love and affection.  He didn't even have to say 'I love you.'  She knew.

            Lulu closed her dark eyes and took the feeling of his light, warm breath near his ear.  She was content to hear him breathe, slowly and surely.  Her eyes fluttered open when she felt his hand on her body.

            "Wakka…" she said, looking down at her belly.

            "I wanna touch our baby, ya?" he explained, applying gentle pressure to her stomach.  "I'm sure she'll be as beautiful as you."

            _What if it's a boy?_  Lulu thought, and it would have been the endearing, cliché way to continue the conversation.  But Lulu couldn't debate the gender of their child, or who's attributes it would have.  None of that mattered.

            "Wakka," she said honestly.  "I don't know…  I don't think I can take care of a baby."

            Wakka froze, his hand affixed to her bulge of life.  It was like before, with Rikku.  He felt bad, but he couldn't come up with anything to say.  "You don't want the baby?" he couldn't help but ask.

            "No, I do…  But I don't know, Wakka.  It's just I'm tired of being pregnant.  I can't leave my bed for most of the day, and it's so difficult to move around.  The baby's so _big_, Wakka."

            "But you're almost ready, right?  Just another week or two—"

            "Wakka, you don't see," she murmured.  The water came up over her toes in a rush as the waves grew in strength.  _Once I have the baby, there'll be even more responsibility for me.  I can't handle this now, how could I handle taking care of another human being?_

            "Lu, I'll be there for you," Wakka promised, even without hearing her thoughts.  "It's my baby too, ya?"

            "Wakka…" she said simply, and she buried herself in the side of his chest.  He wrapped his arm around her tightly.

            Lulu knew the problem wasn't resolved.  But for a while, just a few minutes, things seemed…right.  Safe, maybe.

            No, not safe.  There was still Yuna, and there would still be the baby.  Lulu sighed.  "What are we going to do about her?" 

            "Yuna?  Who knows," muttered Wakka.  He unfurled his arms from around the woman's soft body and hopped up to stomp along the dock.  "Y'know, I didn't think they were just going to _go_ like that.  Those two are so—reckless!"

            Lulu chuckled, and she was surprised that she could.  "I agree their actions are foolish…and rash.  But you can't stand there and say that you've never acted in the same way, Wakka.  Every person has, at one time or another."

            Wakka was always amazed how Lulu could have such a monotone, calm voice in most every situation.  He could sense how scrambled her emotions were lately, but she kept a lot of it inside.  Often, her face would go blank and she would return to reality with nothing but silence on her lips and a frown curving her distinct lips.  But she would talk in the same, even voice.

            _You're strong, Lulu_, Wakka thought.  The man scratched his orange-haired head.  "Let's go back now, ya?  Get some lunch in ya."

            Lulu nodded her approval.  She let Wakka pull her up.  Her knees a bit wobbly, she leaned against him, enjoying his scent and the slow, steady beating of his heart.  "Wakka…never leave me," she insisted quietly.

            He didn't seem to hear.

-

            "Now," Rikku announced, "for your disguise."  She giggled—almost evilly.

            "You've really been waiting for this, haven't you?" Yuna asked, sitting down on the bunk bed in the cabin they girls had come to.

            Rikku smirked, handing Yuna a stack of clothes.  "Put this on, and I'll be back in a minute to do your hair," she instructed, leaving Yuna to her privacy and snickering all the way.  "This is going to be fun!" she called.  She skipped all the way down the hall.

            Yuna puzzled over the outfit she'd been given.  She undid her kimono and folded it in the traditional manner.  She stared at the various articles of clothing.  These were…her clothes?  They looked like Al-Bhed clothes.

            Yuna pulled on the small, tight black shorts, which were less of shorts than Rikku's.  She pulled up incredibly high black boots next, which went halfway up her thigh.  These took a while to lace.  Next, Yuna pulled long black gloves almost all the way up her arms.  There was a tight, sleeveless emerald shirt that went past the tops of the boots.  Across the shirt was a thick black band right over her chest.  Last came a belt with a small purse hanging off one side and a big silver buckle in the middle.

            "Done yet?" wondered Rikku, knocking.

            "Y-yes," replied Yuna, a bit nervous.

            Rikku opened the door.  "Perfect!" was her judgment, and she clapped her hands enthusiastically.

            Rikku handed Yuna a pair of sleek green goggles.  "You can wear those later."  She pulled up a stool and told Yuna to sit on it.

            Yuna was obedient.  "I'm sure I don't look like myself," she said aloud, trying to start a conversation.  _I certainly don't feel it_.

            "No way!  I'm so good," Rikku congratulated herself as she began tugging through Yuna's hair with a comb.  First, she brushed it out completely and got rid of all the knots (there weren't many).  Then she ran a part right down the middle.  But she stumbled across something.  "Yuna…"

            Yuna's fingers clung to the elaborate earring.  "Do I have to get rid of this?" she wondered sadly.  "My mother gave this to me…"

            "You can always put it back on sometime later," Rikku said.

            "O-Okay.  Take it off, then."

            Rikku's enthusiasm trickled out of her as she carefully removed the ornament.  "You can put it back on later," she mumbled again, telling herself more than Yuna.  Sometimes, thinking of the past wasn't so fun…

            Rikku let the thing fall into her palm.  She handed it to Yuna, who put it into the little silver purse without taking the time to look at it.

            The Al-Bhed thief returned to parting Yuna's hair.  Then she pulled one side up until it was high on the back of Yuna's head.  She affixed the ponytail with ribbons and pins, then she curled the hair with the comb so that it twisted around itself, hanging next to the Summoner's ears in cute little spirals.  She repeated the process with the other side, so that Yuna now was the proud owner of twin pigtails spurting out from the sides.

            "Oh, you're so cute, Yunie!" exclaimed the perky young thief.

            "Can I take a look?" wondered the half Al-Bhed, scanning the room for a mirror.  She saw a full-length one near the door.

            "Nope, you need the _full_ affect..."  Rikku plucked up the goggles from Yuna's lap and placed them over Yuna's eyes.  "Now, no one would guess that both halves of you aren't Al-Bhed."

            Yuna smiled nervously, the sort of smile that makes your mouth feel like it might crack because it's so dry and you have to move it anyway.  She came up off the stool and looked at her complete reflection in the glass.

            "Is that really a mirror?" Yuna asked.  "I don't think I can see myself in it."

            Rikku jumped into the air.  "Yep!  I'm an espionage expert!"

-

            "Wakka…?  Wakka, where are…?"  Lulu reached her hand up, but she realized that all she could see was a blurry peace object—a lot different from an arm.  She felt hot and dizzy, like she could faint.  Except that she was already lying down.

            It was the middle of the morning, but the dreams of night had just released the mage from their clutches.  She was alone in the small hut on Besaid Island that she and Wakka had shared for several months now.

            Lulu groaned and tried to roll over on her side, but she found that she could not.  Her pregnant belly prohibited her from moving very much.  So Lulu wrenched the single remaining blanket that covered her and let the thing land in a sweaty heap on the floor.

            It was midsummer, the busiest time of the year.  All village men, from fifteen to fifty, were fishing.  The women collected salt, clams, and other gems from the sea, and the girls searched through the trees for herbs and other useful plants.  The youngest children could be heard everyone, screeching as they placed tag along the beach or hide-and-seek in the woods.  The village elders would playfully scold them for interrupting the preparation of the afternoon meal or the knitting of a new hammock.

            Midsummer was the busiest time of year, and now the happiest.  The ocean was alive and it gave life to the people of Spira freely.  No longer did it hold the bringer of death, Sin.  It was the first time in one thousand years that villages and towns grew and prospered, not having to concern themselves with mere survival any longer.

            Besaid was growing too, like most places.  People who had been scattered by Sin were rejoining with their kindred, their friends.  The world was wonderful…

            Lulu wished to go outside and see it—no, she wished to go and take _part_ in this activities.  She heard each day from her bed the sounds of everyday life: the winds whistling, birds squawking, children giggling, women gossiping.  It reminded her a bit of her own youth, during the Calm, although the times before and after were completely different.

            Sometimes, she thought, maybe gossiping like an old woman would be better than withering away in the heat in a dark room for all hours.  She yearned to cast an ice spell to cool herself, or a lightning one to illuminate the pages of a book.  But she had no energy, and few books existed on Besaid, anyway.  She had only her own tomes of ancient magic lore by her side, and those she practically knew by heart.

            Being imprisoned here, it…well, it gave her a lot of time to think, above all else.  She worried about everyone, especially Yuna.  Lulu had learned a long time ago that, no matter how good a guardian you are, no matter how much you may try, there's no way to prevent someone from feeling the pain of a broken heart.

            Lulu had felt great empathy for Yuna after the defeat of Sin.  She herself still felt the loss of Chappu strongly, those years ago.  The loss of a loved one leaves an eternal scar.  Lulu had tried to grow closer to the Summoner in the months following the pilgrimage's end, but Yuna was bombarded with callers all day long, and she ended up building a wall around herself in order to tolerate it all.

            She even shut out her friends.

            Yuna would treat all people the same way, most of the time.  She would wear a polite smile and speak respectively.  She would tell them the best answer she knew, and then quickly dismiss them.  She would seem like an efficient person, a leader, almost…  But there were times when she disappeared for long spans of time, especially in the late evening, only to be found coming home late from the beach with wet clothes and a face reddened in the setting sun.

            "Yuna—Yuna!  Come here, what are you doing, covered in sand like that?" Lulu remembered scolding a year and a half ago, like many other times.  "Do you sit and let the tide wash over you?"

            Yuna merely shook her head.  Each beautiful eye, one like jade and the other sapphire, were big, bright, and distant.  "I like to watch the sea at night.  I see in the stars…a great city lit up by people—by machina, with buildings so high it would hurt your neck to look at them!  Everything is so big, and the people are everywhere having fun and not worrying about a thing…"

            Lulu held up a nearly white hand to stop the babble.  _Are you a child, Yuna, reciting a fairytale?_  "Zanarkand.  You have told me…before."  _A dozen times.  Don't you remember?_

            Yuna frowned slightly, and it was not a pleasant sight.  Her ever-spacey gaze was enough to pinch the heart, but a true, disappointed frown was a squeeze on the emotions.

            Lulu sighed to herself.  "Zanarkand doesn't exist like it used to.  Maybe, with the machina we can use now, Spira will have great cities like before."   _But wouldn't that just continue the cycle from a thousand years ago?  No, no use in troubling Yuna more…_

            "But I want to go to _Tidus's_ Zanarkand!" Yuna shrieked suddenly, sounding ten years younger, and she turned tail and ran for who knew where.

            Yuna didn't come back until dawn, when Wakka had found her trying to sneak back into the village.

            "She's done no harm, ya?" Wakka had said to Lulu privately when the mage reacted angrily to the news.

            "She should not have run off like that, all alone and so upset—"

            "Y'know, she ran off because she _was_ upset," Wakka said, speaking without thinking (it wasn't the first time, nor the last).

            Lulu was of half a mind to smack him one upside the head, but she restrained herself and went off in a huff.  _Men are stupid_, she'd told herself then, and many times since.

            Yuna clung to the past now, as Lulu once had.  Now Lulu saw the futility in such things, but it was only because she had matured beyond them.  It was simple to see flaws when they weren't your own, easier yet to dismiss them as childish…

            Presently, Lulu felt her baby kick, and she came back to the world of hot weather and noisy villagers and the prison that was pregnancy.  The baby kicked again.

            "Shush," the raven-haired vixen whispered.  "I'm sorry, I try not to think of you as a burden.  But…"  She gave an exasperated sigh.  _What's wrong with me?_

-

            "You wanna go up on deck?" Rikku asked, swinging her hips in an impatient fashion.  "Or what?"

            Yuna pulled the goggles over her eyes.  "I could use some air."

            The two girls climbed up into the sunshine.  Rikku was very surprised that Yuna had been able to sleep for half the day without stirring once.

            "Did ya have any dreams, Yunie?" Rikku wondered, figuring a few gems must have come to fruition given all the time.

            "Some…"  Yuna was thoughtful, and she squinted in the blinding light.  "Hot, isn't it?" she commented on the weather, moving to the railing to sniff the salty water.

            "The water's cold…"  Rikku winked.  "We could go for a swim if this weren't such an extra important mission, huh?"

            Yuna nodded absentmindedly.

            "Well, we'll be wishing for this hot air once we gotta climb Mount Gagazet," Rikku said, trying to fill the silence.  She turned her back to the dark ocean and rested against the metal, sleek elbows jutting out over the edge.

            Yuna watched as the metal knife of a ship sliced expertly through the water.  She had never gone faster on a ship, excluding Cid's.

            "Is this a present from Uncle?" Yuna asked.

            "No way!" retorted Rikku.  "Me and the boys found this baby ourselves and fixed it up real nice!"  'The boys' were Rikku's crew, even though some of them were female.

            "Oh, so you surround yourself with young male companionship, cousin?" teased Yuna, her thoughts shifting toward the more positive end of the spectrum.

            Rikku didn't miss a beat.  "Hey, no way!  They're my subordinates!"  She poked out a small, pink tongue.  The other crewmembers within earshot raised their eyebrows in her direction.

            "You think boys are icky?"

            "Most of 'em."

            Yuna looked at her cousin.  No member of the pilgrimage had really changed outwardly since the defeat of Sin two years ago.  They had just aged two years, just a little.  Lulu, with her swollen abdomen, was obviously the most different.  But Yuna now saw in Rikku the subtle lines of maturity, the little refinements of the body that occur slowly with age until, all of a sudden, a person looks very adult and very different.

            Rikku had been just fifteen when Tidus brought her into the party.  Now she was almost three years older.  Eighteen.  The number didn't fit the spunky Rikku, but Yuna supposed twenty didn't fit her either.  Still, time dragged on, and people aged.  Just a little at a time.  It was a difficult opponent, time was.

            "Rikku…"

            "Hmm, what?"

            "N-Nothing."

            "Whaaaat?" Rikku burst Yuna's bubble, sticking her face right into Yuna's so that the Summoner could see the spiraled green eyes quite clearly.  "Tell me!" she begged.

            A strong gust of wind came across the sea and blew a curl of hair into Yuna's field of vision.  She changed her question.  "Rikku, am I going to be discovered?  My hair's not blond—aren't all Al-Bhed blond?"

            "Most," agreed Rikku, strolling around thoughtfully.  "But not all.  Besides, most of the people we're worried about are pretty ignorant when it comes to Al-Bhed—and all of us are on your side!"

            "You're famous too, Rikku…  I think someone will recognize us."

            "Non-_sense_!" was her reply.  "I'm Al-Bhed, traveling with another Al-Bhed.  Big deal."

            "But you're famous, too, and I'm not Al-Bhed."

            "It'll work, it'll work.  Besides, the disguise is just for you not getting bombarded with fans, so don't worry.  Someone notices us, it means they've got a little brains in 'em—which also means they should have enough brains to leave us alone."

            "What if they're your biggest fan, Rikku?"

            Rikku made a face.  "I don't have any fans."

            "Secc Rikku, fa'na ymsucd drana!" announced a man who had run up from the control room.

            "Almost there, huh?" Yuna said quietly to Rikku, hoping her Al-Bhed was good enough for this.

            Rikku nodded.  "Bnabyna dra cibbmeac!  Kad nayto du lmesp y suihdyeh!"

            "Climbing a mountain…?"  Yuna looked down at her legs concealed in the tall black boots, and wondered if she was ready for this as well.

- - -


	3. Cold Winds

- - -

            Wakka paused at the door to his hut.  His eyes were fixed on the cloth door, but he didn't really see anything.  He didn't want to go in…  He didn't want to look at her.

            "…Someone…there?" Lulu's weak voice called.  The light from the door had flickered like it usually did when a person approached.

            Wakka jumped away from the door and hurried off into the evening.  He passed families sitting in front of their huts, cooking dinner outside as the sun sank into the ocean.

            Wakka found himself walking very quickly toward the ledge above the river.  It seemed like yesterday, the day he had taken a stranger who'd washed up on the beach here to swim to the village.

            _Dat where this whole thing started?_ Wakka wondered.  _With him?_

            Wakka sprinted and flung himself over the edge, landing on the hard surface of the water with an enormous _splash!_ and the spreading of much water several feet in the air.  Maybe he did need to lose a little weight…

            A girl giggled from up above, among the bushes, endlessly humored by the sight of grownup performing a belly flop.  She skipped off through the underbrush to tell all her friends and giggle some more.

            Wakka, meanwhile, put his back towards the river bottom and let his body float along in a lazy fashion.  He paddled halfheartedly with his feet, but mostly the current gently edged him downstream.

            How was he going to face her?  How could he, now?  When it was his fault?

            "Lu…I'm sorry," he mumbled, and he said the same thing over and over in his thoughts.  "Dat stupid doctor, ya?"

            _Ya…stupid doctor._  He remembered what had happened at the docks earlier that afternoon.

            "At this rate, the odds that she will survive the birth are very slim.  Her body has already been weakened, and she seems to get continually worse.  I'm sorry…"

            "Whaddya mean?"  Wakka had growled, shaking a fist.  "Whaddya mean, '_sorry_'?"  His face went red and he raised his hand a bit higher.  "She's got no chance, dat what you're sayin'?"

            The doctor, a young gentleman with dark brown hair combed over his prematurely balding forehead, shook his head sadly.  "You had me examine her, and I've heard what she's been like the past two months…"

            "Well, stop lyin', ya?  Lu's stronger than you could ever know!"  But it was anger and panic that fueled these words.  Inside, he was beginning to doubt, ever so slightly…and it had started eating away at him since then.

            "I understand why you're upset, but it's my job to report my honest diagnosis—if I lied, wouldn't you just be angrier?"

            "You tell me she's got a chance, then!  She'll live, ya?"

            "I can guarantee her labor will be a hard one," the doctor said simply.  "And I don't think she could take such an ordeal, not in her present state."  He looked towards the boat waiting at the dock.  "I really must leave now, forgive me.  I need to get to Bevelle to see a patient…"

            As the professional dove into some stupid excuse, Wakka just stared.  He wanted to grab the small man by his shoulders and shake him.  He wanted to scream, "You're lying, right?  Tell me she'll be okay!"  But he could not.

            "I'll take care of Lu," the orange-haired man said, nodding and waving his arms exaggeratedly in order to be as convincing as possible.

            The doctor climbed up onto the ship.  "Take care of her, as long as you've got her."

            "That'll be forever!" yelled Wakka, but confidence was not in his words, nor his heart.

            Wakka twisted his neck back so that his face was submerged in the clear, cool water.  _What will I do if she…?  That baby growing inside of her…it's because of me.  And all her suffering…and now, if she…if she…  That'd be my fault, too._

_            Lu, I…_  _I'm sorry._

-

            "Aren't we going to be a bit chilly on the way up?" worried Yuna.

            "Hey now.  It's summer, isn't it?"

            "But Mount Gagazet is very far north…there's _always_ snow, Rikku," Yuna groaned.  "Speaking of that, how in the world did we get here so fast?  Mount Gagazet is very far away from Besaid…"

            "You know the world is round, don't you?"

            "Oh…"  _Stupid question, I guess.  We took a shortcut_, Yuna realized.

            They had been walking a great while when they finally arrived at a Travel Agency that had sprouted up right at the base of the sacred mountain.  The building seemed slightly smaller than most of the others, but it also was shiny, and seemed like a nice resort as the winds from the sacred mountain were already howling down.

            "I don't get it," Rikku pronounced as she boldly swung the door open and charged in.  She twisted her neck to talk to Yuna directly.  "It's midsummer in Besaid, but frozen up here."

            "Weren't you here at Gagazet only a little while ago?"  Yuna dusted the snow from her boots on the soft mat directly inside.  She hopped to the side as the Al-Bhed boy (Rikku's 'subordinate'?), who was accompanying them up the mountain, dragged himself in, sagging with the weight of the large pack he was forced to bear.

            Rikku frowned at the boy, who's named just happened to be Zysac.  She wondered if she should have brought one of her brothers instead.  Definitely, one of them would have been stronger.  Still, they would have complained too much and tried to boss Rikku around.

            "Maybe I forgot," Rikku replied to Yuna's earlier question.  "Besides, I took a really long way to get here.  I had to stop at New Home and get some supplies to fix up my ship.  Then I had to go to Bevelle because…"

            Yuna spaced off as her cousin slowly began to remember all she had done for the past several weeks, and explained it.  The Summoner had gotten the idea.  Besides, she was really quite cold in these flimsy, impractical Al-Bhed clothes.  She, Rikku, and the boy—Zack, was it?  No, something Al-Bhed…  Well, whatever it was, they were all exhausted and freezing.

            _I can't wait to curl up in a warm bed,_ Rikku thought.  _This Gagazet place is worse than last time.  Funny…_

            "Hello, hello," said a woman's cheerful voice.  She had just emerged from one of the doors in back.  Her goggled eyes fixed on the new customers.  "Yr, Al-Bhed!  Fryd y bmaycyhd cinbneca!"

            "Hello!" Rikku said cheerfully in her native language.  "Do you have some rooms available?"

            "Always."  The clerk winked.  "I would kick out any other guests in order to service Miss Rikku."

            The clerk was a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, like Lulu and Wakka.  She had incredibly long blond hair that went freely down over her shoulders down her arms and back.  She was wearing long black slacks and a fuzzy blood-red sweater.  She also had on animal hide gloves of a tan color.

            _Finally_, Yuna thought, _an Al-Bhed woman who dresses practically._  Yuna noticed that the woman inspected her curiously, but said nothing about it, and just continued making arrangements about the rooms.

            Zysac was quiet, but he seemed relieved, the color rushing back into his face and his hands tingling with renewed sensation.  His clothes were typical of his tribe.  He had light tan baggy pants tucked in deep brown boots, a long-sleeved sapphire shirt with a black jacket over it, and dark blue goggles, black straps affixing them to his head, with a band across the forehead and a chinstrap coming down from the ears.  His hair was short and so blond it was almost white next to his crimson ears.

            "We run a nice little inn here, I'd like to think," the clerk was saying.  "We have four rooms and a small dining area.  Also, I have a large stock of many items you might consider taking on your journey up the mountain."

            "Well, we'll be staying until tomorrow at least.  Gotta get our game plan on, hmm?"  She winked at her two companions.  "Right now we could all use a little nap, though."

            The clerk nodded.  "No problem.  If you need anything, the name's Myesa."

            "That's a pretty name," Yuna said, and, without thinking, she did so in the common tongue.

            "Why, thank you," replied Myesa in Al-Bhed, smoothing out the ripple in the flow of the conversation.  She smiled and went to dig for something under her desk.

            "C'mon," yawned Rikku, going through the rightmost door to a short hallway with a two doors on either side.  "Zysac," she said simply and tossed him a small metallic object—a key, probably.  Then she unlocked another entrance and collapsed on the nearest bed.

            While Rikku sighed with happiness, Yuna came in a bit more slowly and shut the door behind her.  She removed the goggles from her head and placed them on a small wood table that sat between the two low beds.  She took her hair down, then struggled to untie the enormous boots, and finally let them stand up by themselves while she burrowed down into the thick, soft comforters.

           "Yuna," Rikku said, stretching out on top of the uppermost quilt.  "We need to call you something else.  What about…Aore?"  She was mumbling to herself, lost in thought, and her companion could hardly make out what she was saying.

            "What do you mean?" Yuna poked her head out from her newly constructed nest.

            "Your name is Yuna…"

            "I know.  My father named me because he idolized Lady Yunalesca…"  _…How terribly misguided my father was, just like all Summoners_, she remembered, and she felt a small finger of pain plucking at her heartstrings.

            "If you try and translate Yuna…it would be Aore," Rikku explained.

            "What does that mean?"

            "It's just nonsense, of course.  But I can't just go screaming 'Yuna!  Yuna!' everywhere, y'know?"

            "Mmm."  Yuna wrapped up into her covers.  "Aore is a pretty name too."

            Rikku sat up on the edge of her bed and began unbuckling and peeling at various articles she had on her person until she was just wearing her shirt and shorts.  On the floor sat a pile of boots, goggles, grenades, belts, blades, and a dozen or so other items she always had at the ready.  Now she crawled into a cozy little haven of her own.  "Nightie-night."

            "You too," Yuna said.  She shut her eyes and tried to think of a calming sea, with the waves gently lapping up against a white sand beach.  Her mind populated the beach with palm trees and small children laughing over a game of blitzball.

            Yuna awoke from her nap, feeling fully energized, about two hours later.  Rikku was snoring away, tossing and turning on the mattress.

            Yuna smirked at her cousin's playfulness and let her sleep.  She walked over to the curtained window and peeked out to see it was already dark outside on the mountain.  It might not be too late, though.  Just dark.  The sun set earlier during Gagazet's winter—during the mid to late afternoon.

            Yuna went to the table and managed to brush her hair back into a large ponytail on the back of her head.  She pulled the goggles down and tiptoed out into the comparatively bright hallway.  Her eyes, one blue and one green, instinctively blinked in order to adjust.

            She jumped a little when the door opposite the one from which she had just emerged came creaking open, somewhat cautiously.  The other person appeared startled as well, his green eyes coming open wide.

            "Oh," Yuna breathed a sigh of relief.  It was only Zysac.  "Rammu," she said.

            He just nodded in reply.  He had yet to open his mouth before her.

            Yuna nodded, too.  She really didn't have any idea what else to do.  Also, now that she looked at Zysac without all his headgear on, he didn't seem like such a 'young boy', after all.  He was a bit short, but he looked like he was fifteen or sixteen.  Younger than her, perhaps, but not young.

            Yuna shrugged.  He wasn't going to talk to her, and he just stood there blankly.  Maybe he was just half-awake.  She gave him a small smile, signaling her defeat, and turned to leave.

            "No…you no go there."

            Yuna turned around and raised one of her fine eyebrows.  "What do you mean?" she responded.  She was surprised he had spoken the common tongue, short and choppy as it was.

            "You is…the Lady Summoner.  No go.  Please."  He paused between each word, obviously groping into the depths of his mind to get his thoughts across.

            "I do understand Al-Bhed…" she told him, a bit frustrated that he couldn't seem to grasp that.

            "Come," he said, at last using language he was comfortable with.  He took her into his room and shut the door.  He had Yuna sit down on one of the beds as he lit a small lamp hanging from the wall.

            "Would you please explain to me what you're talking about?"  

            "I went out earlier, and people have come.  Strange people who hate Al-Bhed."  He sat heavily on the mattress, as if his worries were almost too much to bear.  "They are Yevonites."  He seemed to scoff at the word, and it was of little wonder; Yevon had meant the demise of many, especially those of his tribe.

            "Why would they be here?"

            "It is dark, and a storm is coming.  But me, Miss Rikku, and you, Lady, should stay far away from them.  They are dangerous."

            "Well, have you talked with them?"

            "Earlier, I was trying to rest, but I heard yelling in the lobby.  I went up the door and I could hear them insulting Miss Myesa.  They said they hated to stay in a 'dirty Al-Bhed inn', but they had no choice because of the weather.  They said it was dreadful—and they said something about a pilgrimage on the sacred mountain."

            "Pilgrimage?"  The word summoned memories from her heart.  "Did you see what sort of people they were?"

            He nodded.  "They finally stopped insulting Miss Myesa long enough for her to give them a room—I think the one next to mine—and well, I heard them coming to the door and I tried to get outta the way.  This Guado girl came in first, with frizzy red hair.  She just rushed past me.  But then this guy in a warrior monk's outfit came through and took me by the collar—" He pulled away the top of his shirt to show her a red line all around his neck.

            Yuna gave a small gasp.

            "There were a few others, but I didn't really see them, because the warrior monk guy shoved me into my door and started swearing at me.  But I didn't understand him that well..."

            "Why, that's awful!" exclaimed the woman.  "Did anything else happen?"

            "I don't know.  Once he let me go and he stormed off into the room with his friends, I ran back and locked myself in my room."  His face was wrinkled with lines of concern.  Obviously, the experience had not been pleasant for him.

            "What happened next?"  Yuna was on the edge of her seat.

            "They came through about an hour ago, and then later at least some of them went back out to the lobby or whatever, I'm not sure.  And then I heard your door open, so I was worried they might bother you, too, since you're dressed as an Al-Bhed, Lady Yuna."

            "You're supposed to call me 'Aore', now, I think," she informed him.  "My codename."  She tried to show him a bit of sparkle in her eyes, even with the goggles.  The two of them sat there for a bit, processing thoughts silently in the flickering lantern light.

            "How do you know they're Yevonites?" Yuna wanted to know.  She asked quietly and timidly, as though speaking in a normal tone might shatter the silence explosively.

            "I know…" he said simply, his face grave.  "I just know."

-

            When Wakka arrived home, there were two plates of food laid out on the table:  one was full, and one had the food mixed around, with a few bites' worth missing.

            Lulu was comfortably dozing on one side of the room, in the large bed that they shared.  It was dark and cool; the fire in the middle of the hut had gone out without anyone to watch it.

            Wakka felt the guilt swell up inside of him.  Lulu had endured the heat of an inside fire only to make a meal he didn't share with her.  Tomorrow…tomorrow he would make dinner.

            Wakka sat down to eat his food.  There were bits of meat cooked inside the rind of a spiky vegetable that was grown in many families' gardens.  A sauce made with stock and a few spices was ladled over the entire plate.  A few greens sat in a small pile to make a salad.

            The food was much better hot, and now a bit of the flavor seemed to have evaporated into the humid air.  Wakka took a spoon and gobbled everything down, even scooping out the rind until it was a flimsy dark green shell.  His stomach hurt afterward, but he knew that sitting and picking at the meal would have been worse.

            There was a jug of fresh water in the middle of the table that he himself had fetched in the early hours of that morning.  He used about half of it to quench his thirst and wash the bitter tastes from his mouth.  Still, he found that he tasted something even pure water wouldn't wash away.

            Wakka wondered how late it was.  When the cool night winds began penetrating the door, he became a bit chilly.  He peeled off his clothes until he was left with just his dark pants.  He even removed his headband and coarsely combed his hair down with clumsy fingers.

            He stumbled over Lulu to the side of the bed next to the wall, and pulled the few coverings over his body.

            Lulu was motionless.  She was lying flat on the bed, her hands folded over her belly with the rest of her lined up in a straight line.  Her black hair was loose, mostly to her left side, and it was long enough to come down off the bed to touch the floor of the hut.

            It was a bit chilling to see her like that.  She already had pale skin, and now…

            Wakka sat about halfway up, leaning on his elbow and looking down at his lover.  He kissed her forehead, and was a bit nervous until he felt warmth beneath his dry lips.  _Thank goodness_, he couldn't help but thinking.

            Lulu stirred, blinked her beautiful enticing eyes open, and smiled at him simply, without a word.  'You're home,' was what her eyes said.

            "I'm sorry, ya?" he mumbled, kissing her on the edge of her cheek, right near her ear.  It was his favorite spot to kiss her, but he wasn't quite sure why.  "I was…thinking."

            Lulu looked at him curiously.  "About what?" she asked.  From the look on his face, she had her suspicions…  But maybe, just maybe—hopefully, even—she was wrong.

            "Nothing important," he said with his heavy island accident, altering his th's and modifying a few other letters.

            "You're not worried about me, are you?"  The woman sounded a little angry.

            "I…I…"  He scratched the back of his head.  "'Course not!"

            "You're lying," she knew.  "Wakka—"

            "It's nothing, ya?  I'll take care of it," he told her.  _I'll take care of you._

            "Hmm," she replied, with supple lips closed.

            "Anyhow, you didn't eat your dinner, did ya?"

            "I wasn't hungry."  She saw his mouth start to open and added hastily, "I'll eat it later."

            Wakka wore a half frown.  "I…  I dunno.  You gotta eat for you and the baby, right?  Or what?"

            "Of course, Wakka.  I know that."

            He was just a tad thickheaded.

            Wakka slid his hand behind her neck and raised her head so that their lips met for a slow kiss.  It was the lazy sort of kiss that one relishes for a long time, just happy to have the opportunity to share the affection, not rushed or hurried or anything.  Wakka hoped they could have the opportunity for a lot more of these.

            Lulu's finely defined lips curved into a smile under the weight of the man's thicker, more calloused ones, and she wrapped her slender arms around his neck.  His skin was warm and soft to the touch, even if his stubble scratched at her tender face.

            Wakka sighed and buried his face in her neck, coming down from his elbow so that he could lie right next to her, as closely as was possible.  One arm wrapped around his unborn child, and the other wound down beneath the small of the woman's back.

            Lulu shifted to make herself comfortable.  She folded both hands on her belly and entangled her fingers with Wakka's so that they both held the baby.  She wondered to herself if the three of them would get to be together like this after the baby was born.

            Unknown to Lulu, Wakka was thinking the same exact thing.  Tears stung at his closed eyes, but he fought them.  _Don't cry.  You gotta be strong for Lu…  She's been the same for you._

            A few years ago, when Sin had killed Chappu, it was as if Wakka's wits and reason just flooded out of him in a rush and he became a lonely, angry shell of a man.  From then on, especially at that time, Lulu had been the one to knock some sense into him.  She had growled at him when he was unreasonable about the Al-Bhed, scolded him when he tried to find Chappu in Tidus, and consoled him on cold nights when he was all alone.  She had made him whole again, even with her sarcastic and sometimes condescending manner.

            It had taken Wakka long enough to realize how seriously Lulu had grieved during that time, too.  Probably a lot worse than he had.  She stopped wearing colors, and took to black and grays (a habit she had yet to break).  When Lulu had had any time at all, she threw herself into studying magic much more seriously than before.  Her focus became the dark arts, and she gave up healing magic altogether.  She was always trying to test a more powerful spell than before.

            Wakka squeezed Lulu's waist tightly with the arm that went under her.  He pressed his nose into the warm flesh of her neck.  _I want this forever_, he thought about the warm, secure feeling he got when he was so intimate with Lulu like this.

            Again, Lulu shared in his sentiments.

- - -

Author's Notes:

Just a word of caution…  My long-term boyfriend recently broke up with me, and I'm pretty stressed/sad about that, so don't count on this being a very happy story. =/  It might get a whole lot more depression, or just stay all angsty and stuff.  I'll try to insert a bit of humor if possible.

I know the story skips around a lot from person to person and from past to present.  I hope readers can follow it well enough…really, it's just how my style works it's *magic*.  This is my first FFX fic, so I hope everything works out.  I'm trying to put insight into things that happened a) before the game, b) during the game, and c) after the game (which is all mine to play with! Hahaha!)

I don't know how big a role original characters will play in this story.  I think they'll be at least one or two very major ones; three at the most.  Sometimes I can get too carried away with original characters that I slack off in terms of focusing on the staple characters that everyone knows and loves.  Whoops ^^;;

Well, thanks for reading so far!  I'd appreciate reviews…  Already, Noelle pointed out a mistake about Yuna's earring (I thought it was part of her hair, whoops…)  Who knows what mistakes I'll make next O.o  I'm trying to keep with what was shared in the game, so if there is a discrepancy between what I've written and what was explained, do tell.  Thanks again ^^


	4. Happiness

- - -

            "What are we going to do?" Rikku wondered.  She had been rudely awakened, or so was her spin on it, by Yuna and Zysac.  They had come into her room and made her poke her head from the warm covers.  She sighed at them now, as they all sat on the beds and twiddled their thumbs.

            There was a small creak, but it was only Myesa entering with a tray of steaming food.  She used the backside of her body to close the door behind her.  The tray she set down on table between the beds.

            "Your fellow guests are currently eating in the dining hall," the inn's owner informed them.  "Except one of them—the Guado, I think."

            Both Rikku and Zysac grimaced slightly at the name of the race.  Yuna felt uncomfortable, remembering Seymour.

            "I can't believe a bunch of maniacs would barge in and ruin our stay!" grumbled Rikku.  "After I was so looking forward to it, too."

            Myesa sat down on the bed next to Zysac, whose cheeks went a bit pink.  "I'm sorry.  I know they caused a disturbance, but…  Do you want me to kick them out?"

            "I'm worried they could get violent," Yuna said.  She had heard yelling all afternoon from the party's room.

            "Like they haven't already," muttered the boy.

            "I don't want to start any conflicts, Miss Myesa," Yuna said earnestly.  "You have been too kind to us already."

            "Miss Aore," Myesa replied.  "I think these people are perfectly capable of starting conflicts without our help."

            "Rrrrgh!" Rikku growled.  "This just pisses me off!"  She looked about half ready to go and grab her Godhand and charge outside to display her anger to the unwanted guests.

            "I don't want to speak so badly of people I haven't met," Yuna murmured, but everyone stopped to listen to her.  It was a privilege (or a curse) that came with saving the world.

            "Yeah, well, if they know who you are, they'll make a fuss, and if they don't know, then they'll…still make a fuss."  Rikku looked longingly at her pile of weapons.

            Yuna stood up, filled with resolve.  "I won't let myself judge someone until I get to know them.  It is what I would hope people would do for me."  She pulled the goggles down over her sparkling green and blue eyes, which wandered for the door.  "Until they do something harmful to me, I refuse to think ill of them."

            Zysac looked a bit indignant at this, and the mouths of the other two Al-Bhed women just went to a slant.

            "Well, just because you're not going to be mean to them doesn't mean you have to be nice to them.  Let's just stay in our rooms till tomorrow and leave extra early."  Rikku seemed in a much worse mood than usual.  Yuna halted her advance and just pondered…did these Al-Bhed know something she did not?

            "All right," Myesa agreed, standing.  She didn't want any major problems going on in her new enterprise, either.  It was…troubling.  "I'll go watch the guests and assure your safety."  She bowed slightly to Yuna.  "Good night."

            The remaining occupants of the room took their places on the beds and began to divvy up the food.  Upon their arrival, they had been starving.  Now, their stomachs turned with worry.  They ate little.

            "Oh, this sucks," growled Rikku.  She frowned at her plate and just gobbled everything in sight, giving herself a stomachache but not really caring.  "I hate those…."  She began mumbling Al-Bhed curses—well, that's what Yuna presumed them to be; she had never heard the words before.

            Zysac looked at his gloved hands seriously.  "Let's leave early," was all he said, and he departed.

            Yuna sat on the edge of the recently vacated bed with her hands folded neatly in her lap.  She dreaded a bit spending the night with such a cranky Rikku.  There seemed to be something bothering the thief more than this group of unruly travelers, and her cousin could recognize it.

            "This sucks," repeated Rikku.

            "What's troubling you so much?" Yuna finally had the courage to ask aloud.  "Is it…?"

            "No," came the muttered reply.  "I just…I don't know.  I had a dream."  This last comment came rather reluctantly from the blonde's lips, and only with the prodding of her cousin's concerned stare.  "Stop looking at me like that already."

            Yuna turned her head.  "Sorry."

            "No, no, it's all right."  Rikku fell back on the bed and kicked her feet weakly in the air.  "I just thought that things would be a lot happier now.  That Spira would be happy, and…"

            "Did you have a nightmare, Rikku?" Yuna changed the subject.  Or, at least, tried.

            "No, it was happy.  But I was sad when I woke up."

            "You're not going to tell me what the dream was about?"

            "…You'll laugh."

            "Will not," promised Yuna.  She considered her cousin thoughtfully.  The Al-Bhed was waving her arms and legs almost like she was floating in a pool of water.  It reminded her of Wakka, and she laughed to compare the overweight former blitzball to the petite, spunky thief.

            "You're laughing already!"  Rikku's voice was full of accusations.

            "No, no, I was just thinking…about Wakka…"

            "Wakka?"  Rikku jolted into a sitting position.

            "I…  Oh, nevermind."  Yuna held up a hand to signal defeat.  "Now, I won't laugh anymore.  So, your dream?"

            Rikku stopped her flailing.  "I was walking along the Mi'hen Highroad, from Luca.  And I was looking out over the railing—you know that place?  And then, all of a sudden, everyone was there—Auron and Tidus too, you know?  We were all laughing, and talking, and then the sun started to set and we sat down right on the cobblestone!

            "After it got dark, it was a bit chilly, and we leaned against the wall, all huddled together…and there were these great big fireworks—the best you ever saw!  Big and bright and loud…"  She shivered momentarily.  "Like thunder."

            Yuna sat and pictured the scene.  In her mind, she oohed and aahed at the spectacular flashes of light, and shook with the crashing booms soon afterward.  And she was holding Tidus's hand.  She gazed into his blue pearls of eyes and saw the beauty of the night reflected, only a thousand times greater.

            "But then it all ended when I woke up."  Rikku's words came shattering through the girls' imagined paradises, shaking the earth of the utopia in their mind's eye.  They were both somber.

            "That's so wonderful," Yuna said, her heart clinging onto the scene for a few more precious moments.  "I wish that it were true."

            "I just thought we would all be happy."

            Just then, the lantern's light died, and the two were left to speak in silence.

            "So did I," Yuna admitted.

            "I'm doing everything I wanted to.  I feel happy, but sometimes I sit alone at night and just am lonely, you know?  Like something's missing."

            "I know."

            "I wish Auron were here."

            Yuna looked over toward her cousin, even though the entire room was pitch black.

            "He…he would say something tough," Rikku tried to explain.  She put on her best gruff male voice.  "Let's go!  We've got to keep moving!  Shape up, little girl!"

            The two women burst into giggles.

            "You do sound a lot like Sir Auron," Yuna said with an invisible grin.

            "A-And then…"  Rikku was laughing so hard it was becoming increasingly difficult to be understood.  "He'd take out his…jug and take a…big…long sip.  'This is for the fallen!'"

            Yuna fell silent at this comment.

            Rikku kept laughing, almost hysterically, until she finally and quickly burst into a violent batch of tears.

            Yuna lay back in the bed and let her cousin get her emotions out.  After Rikku seemed to have calmed down a bit, she gave this piece of wisdom:  "Crying helps sometimes, doesn't it?  Like your bad feelings are trying to ride out on your tears…"

            "You always have something profound to say, Yunie," Rikku sniffed, practically digging at her face furiously to make the tears stop.  She wiped her nose with one entire arm and folded in on herself in a fetal position.

            "It's something I heard from a village elder a long time ago.  When I was crying for my father."  She snuggled up in the covers, a cheap replacement for strong arms wrapped around her.  "This is similar to that time, I think.  In the streets, everyone was celebrating so wonderfully…I couldn't bring myself to be happy at that time because I knew my father was dead.  Now…it is the same.  But at least I managed to get past my father's death in time."  She let out a deep breath.

            "Spira is safe and everyone is rejoicing.  Still, every person has a scar to wear.  Lost parents, or friends…"  Yuna shut her eyes.  The picture of she and her Guardians sitting above Luca watching the night rushed back into her mind, and she was filled with an elated feeling.  "I wonder if memories and dreams are all we have left."

            "Love," added Rikku, very shortly and simply.  She paused.  "Don't think I had a crush on Auron or nothin', 'cause I didn't.  He was _way_ too old for me, and too serious.  Geez!"  The man had irritated her many times, and yet…  "It's just that I guess I sorta…respected him.  He was the closest thing to a leader we had."

            "We had a wonderful group."

            "I miss those times, even though they were really hard.  We were always fighting monsters or solving puzzles or walking for miles…and miles…and miles…"  She groaned.  "I always felt like I belonged."  Her last comment was a whisper made from the edges of sleep.  "Loved, even…"

            Yuna left her tired cousin to her dreaming.

            _Spira's future is uncertain.  I thought, too, that everything would just sort itself out once Sin was gone…  I was naïve.  People squabble more than ever.  They are either stuck in the past of fumbling through the future.  And everyone wants Spira to be just the way they want it.  Me…  I only wish for people's happiness._

            And she scoffed at the word 'happiness', and turned on her side and wrapped the blankets around all parts of her body, so she was snug and warm.  _Sometimes, I feel a little happy.  But it's not the feeling I have gotten before…  When you feel joy right down to your heart and you have a bit of nervousness—even in your stomach.  When the world kind of has a dreamy tint to it, and your thoughts are dominated by one, pure, elated feeling._

            I haven't felt this way many times in my life, but still…  My selfish wish…it is only to have this feeling again, maybe just once more.

-

            The morning was an eerily dim one.  The air was thick and uncomfortable.  And for once in a great while, Lulu had awakened early, with Wakka still by her side.  Perhaps not every omen about this morning was an ill one.

            Wakka was awake but he wasn't moving very much.  His eyes wandered around the room.

            "What is it?" Lulu wondered groggily.

            "Nothing," he lied.  He was an awful liar.

            "Looks like there will be a storm soon," Lulu said.

            "Any minute."

            "How long have you been up?"

            "…A bit."

            Lulu sighed at his lack of responsiveness and grabbed his messy hair in her hand.  "Wakka?"

            His mouth curved into a faint smile and he kissed her by the ear, as always.  "'Mornin', by the way."

            "You should cut your hair," Lulu commented.  "You're an old man now, Wakka, for what do you need such ridiculous hair?"

            "I'll cut it later," he agreed, showing no emotion.  His eyes had continued their quest across the boring wooden ceiling.

            "When?" she prompted, trying to urge emotion from him.  It was funny, too; she herself was rarely animated, but, when someone cheerful like Wakka or Rikku lost his spunk, she became a bit panicked.  The usual order of things was best.

            "For our wedding," the blitzer spoke, and this time his eyes met hers and twinkled faintly.

            Lulu splashed on an overly bedazzled expression.  They had talked about sharing vows many times, but there was never any time, and then she got sick.  Their child would be born a…

            "Ooh, when will that be?" Lulu questioned, playing the giddy schoolgirl.

            Wakka loved to see her playful, perhaps because it was a rare experience for him.  His cold exterior melted a little.  "When you're all better, ya?  Couple months."

            They both froze, their eyes fixed on one another's, and their thoughts the same.

            Lulu frowned.  "Don't be so _dead_, Wakka," she started, choosing to ignore her choice of words as soon as they rode out on her breath.  "The storm is coming, probably a big one, and we'll get to spend some time together at home."

            Wakka nodded, but hesitation dominated his body language.  He climbed out of bed and into his shoes.  "I'll go and board up."  He stomped out rather somberly, not even performing his usual stretches of the morning.

            Lulu hurried and, while he could not see, she performed her morning ritual.  With great struggle she first sat and then lumbered off of the bed, coming up on her legs with many a wobble.  She was very front heavy, and her back growled at her with aggravation.  It had been comfortable on the firm, flat mattress, but now it was forced to endure the weight of two human beings.

            Lulu came to the small washstand that was kept for her (most villagers bathed in the river or nearby streams).  The water had been replenished last night by a kindly neighbor, and it was cooler than the air at least, even if not perfectly fresh.

            Lulu replaced her underclothes and placed a loose black dress over herself.  She was used to wearing tighter clothing, but the baby prohibited that.  Besides, because the air was so humid, her skin needed the ventilation.

            Wakka had finished closing up the shutters for the windows and now he was working steadily on putting in place the wooden door.  Around him, his fellow villagers were doing the same things for their homes.  From the look of the sky, they were in for a big storm.

            "Hey, Lu?"  Wakka said, poking his head in.  "I'm gonna run and get water and stuff, 'kay?"

            Lulu nodded to him, tingling a bit as he watched her so filled with concern.

            The woman, as hurriedly as could be managed, went about the chores, clearing off the bed and folding up the pillows and blankets on top in a neat pile.  She discarded the food that she had never eaten from last night.

            "I'm breaking a promise," she said aloud as she wiped the table down and arranged the two stools around it.  Knowing Wakka would return soon, Lulu sat down on one of these seats and took a comb to her hair, brushing out its incredibly long, midnight strands.  There were few knots; her hair was good like that.

            Lulu was tired from this small amount of labor, but she wouldn't admit it to herself.  She concentrated on brushing her hair, and then pulling it back and tying with some purple ribbon she usually kept wrapped around the comb's teeth.

            Wakka came in, weighed down by two water buckets in his hands and a basket of food tied around his neck.  His half-naked body was covered in sweat, and relief sunk into his features as he set the heaven parcels down.

            Lulu envied that.  A bucket of water could be put down.

            Wakka wiped himself off with some of the new water and went to the corner to change his clothes.  Lulu thought it was odd that he would be shy about dressing in front of her.  She had seen him with nothing on at all many times.  But today, he was acting unnatural towards her.

            Lulu swung the huge, loosely tied ponytail so that it lay in front of her shoulder, following the large curves of her front side.  She then stood and walked to inspect the food Wakka had brought in from the village's central supply.

            "That's our emergency food, ya?" Wakka told her before she touched the various vegetables and few pieces of fruit.  There was also some fish wrapped in paper.

            "Emergency?" Lulu's dark eyes opened a bit wider, the only indication she felt alarm.

            "They're saying in the village that a big storm's coming.  A hurricane," he said quietly.  He had turned back around to face the wall.

            "Well, how well did you board up the house?"

            "Good as I can," he said, and his poor grammar didn't even press her nerves like it used to.  He was thoughtful for a minute.  "Hey, Lu—lots of people are headin' over to the old temple now."

            It was Lulu's turn to face away.  If she were at the temple, there would be no bed for her to rest on.  Besides, she was ill, and it made her uncomfortable to have so many people around, seeing her weak like she was.  She forced herself to possess a pleasant look about her, and took from between her breasts the fish pendant, placing it over her dress.

            Coming to Wakka, she stroked the silver charm and said, "I would rather spend time alone with you here."  It wasn't really a lie, nor an exaggeration of the truth.  Besides, Wakka knew, at least to some extent, about her troubles with public places.

            Wakka felt proud about her wearing his necklace, but terribly embarrassed at the same time.  It was the only truly personal thing he had had to give her, when he had finally confessed his feelings and longings for her.

            Lulu wasn't embarrassed about it, but usually the thing slipped beneath her outer clothing and it could not be seen shimmering in the daylight.

            "We'll be safe here," the man said, watching as her smooth fingers moved up and down over her chest.  He couldn't quite explain it, but, somehow, this Lulu was the most attractive one he had ever seen.

            Her beautiful and elegant body had swollen enormously and she looked a bit tired, but inside he simply admired her strength and thanked whatever god was left simply for the chance to be with her.  She was so wonderful, such a pillar of strength, such a wonderful house for the life inside her.

            Lulu wanted to put her arms around Wakka, just to feel a bit better.  The storm made her feel worried inside, and there were few things she worried about.  She sometimes had a sixth sense about things, and this seemed like one of those times.

            Wakka came up behind her and hugged her close to him, taking both of her hands and using them to wrap all four arms around each other over the large, soft chest.  Wakka next concentrated on practically devouring her soft, sweet neck and shoulder, where he moved away the fabric with his teeth.

            Lulu giggled as his hair tickled her skin.  It was rare of her to act so childishly, but it felt good right now to let herself go, to relax leaning heavily on him.  She did not say, but she was feeling sick, a bit weak like she could faint.  She told herself this was from the ecstasy of being so intimately close to this sweet, wonderful man…but it wasn't completely true.

            Several months ago, Yuna had been pining endlessly, as she did when she had a few minutes to herself.  It had been early evening, right before all the village left on a yearly excursion to go celebrate midwinter, with festivities all night on the furthest shore from the village (the reason was something about proving that they had nothing to fear from winter).

            Yuna had been sulking, insisting she would not go, that there was no reason to celebrate.

            "Yuna," urged her former guardian.  "It's a tradition.  You always used to love going—seeing the children at their games, remember?"  It was true that last year Yuna had held the same objections to the celebration and that she had gotten her way in the end.

            "I don't want to go," said the girl with more sternness.

            "Yuna…it'll do you some good to go."

            "I don't care."

            "Well, everyone will be much happier if you're there.  Don't you realize that?  Last time they were all sad because you weren't there—"

            "I don't want to go!"

            Lulu, losing her control for once in a great while, cried out, "Well, if you want to be so selfish, then go right ahead!  But can't you see that you're bringing the spirits of the people you care about down to hell with yours?"  Her comments were quick, edged with bitterness, and they stung.

            "I'll be happy when I see Tidus again," Yuna declared, overcoming the shock of the words with a bit of anger of her own.

            "He's _gone_, can't you see that?" exclaimed Lulu.  "Tidus is dead!"

            Yuna's eyes turned to ice.  "I hate you!" she cried, a hoarse scream that came out before thoughts processed.  "You're wrong, and I know it.  I'll find him."  And she had spun on her black-booted heels and stomped after the other villagers, who were skipping along down the path.

            And with that, Lulu knew that she had cemented Yuna's heart against her.  After that, the Summoner hardly spoke to her old friend.  She would nod politely as they passed on the road, but she never came over every day to visit, or took Lulu with her to meet leaders, like she always had before.

            Lulu remembered that night vividly.  Seeing Yuna disappear about such an exchange of words, the older woman felt tears sting her eyes for the first time since Chappu had died.  She ran back towards the village, clutching at the gray cloak she was wearing.

            She stumbled into her small hut that sat perched a bit away from the village, a ways past the temple.  Inside, she broke into sobs, almost piercing the palms of her hands with her fingernails as she squeezed her fists tight.  It had been so long since she had loathed herself so much, and the unfamiliar pain attacked ferociously.

            Suddenly, the dark room was illuminated as the door was pushed aside.

            "Lu?" came a cautious and curious voice, the darkness slipping back over the room.

            "Wakka?"  Lulu tried to dash the tears away, but the best she could do was cease her sniffling for a minute.  "I…"  She could feel his presence behind her, and she rushed into him, clinging desperately.

            She let the tears flow steadily now, soaking his shirt, which was thick due to the winter weather.  Suddenly, she recognized the cold of the room; her cloak had slipped from her shoulders onto the floor when she'd come in.

            Wakka stood like a statue for a moment, but her warm body sending out such needy signals brought him to life, and he took the liberty of stroking her back slowly.  "Hey, Lu, let's get a fire going, ya?"  He had felt her ice-cold skin.

            Lulu had waited with her arms crossed while Wakka stumbled around in the dark and, at last, started a small fire blazing.  When the light finally flared up and doused the room in bright, vivid colors, the woman's eyes fixed on the man and she felt warmth, more than that which radiated from the fire.

            Wakka would have studied Lulu's face intently and curiously, but his tanned skin was flushed with a deep crimson, so he turned away.  His thoughts and hearts were racing, one trying to out compete the other.

            "Wakka…"  Lulu's voice was still brimming with sadness and worry, and it more then reached out an arm to bring him to her, beckoning.

            Wakka came up from the crouching position he had been assuming and situated himself directly in front of the woman, surveying her body nervously as it heaved up and down with strong emotion.  He scratched his head.  He wanted to help, but…

            "She hates me," Lulu suddenly said, in her cool, controlled voice.  Her face jolted up as she looked directly into Wakka's eyes and there were no fresh tears on her pale face.  She simply stared straight ahead, hardly blinking.  She was shocked.

            "Who, Yuna?"

            "She hates me," the woman repeated, and did so a few more times, blinking between each phrase.  The dried tears that had been rolling down her cheeks he wiped away, using his thumb roughly.

            It was unsettling, to say the least.  Lulu was supposed to be _his_ pillar of strength, and here she was, incoherent, and she had been sobbing.  Lulu, sobbing.  He could hardly comprehend it.

            Hesitating at first, Wakka engulfed the woman in his large, muscular arms.  The awkward affection came more than coarsely at first, but Lulu responded to it happily, taking solace in the shelter of the man's body.

            "Lu…don't worry," he mumbled, and she could hear his chest vibrating with the words.

            This safe feeling overwhelmed her so much that she finally recognized what she felt all along beside Wakka, what she had tried to hide for so long, out of respect for her Chappu.  She wanted to be protected, no matter how strong her spells could be, no matter how well she could keep her emotions buried.  And Wakka, somehow, provided this desperately needed sensation inside of her, even if he did so a bit clumsily.

            Lulu blinked long and slow, gazing into Wakka's confused face, grasping him with cold arms, seeking heat, seeking love.

            Wakka muttered not a syllable, but the need in his body had grown too, and he came down hugely into his first kiss, pressing hard on her lips with an open mouth.

            Lulu had grunted in surprise, which she later regretted for sake of embarrassment.  Finally her body remembered the sweet motions of passionate kissing, and she started trying to direct Wakka's mouth into the right shapes and tempo.  She struggled for a bit, but she finally surrendered to his inexperience, and let him feel his way through the moment.

            He grabbed at her waist and held her close, using the other arm to sort of cradle her head.  His breaths grew faster as more of her sweet body came into contact with his.  His mind became a blur, the thoughts tripping over one another, and all he could do was take her against him, trying to kiss her right, trying to do what was right.

            Lulu finally pulled down her head from his lips and let air come freely into her lungs, but she did not heave as the man did (that would be unladylike).  She felt so bad, and he felt so _good_, and it was clear now that he was for her now, that he could be what she needed.

            Wakka was speechless.  He wondered if he had pressed too far.  He started apologizing, but it came out in a mess of long and short syllables, and not entirely in the correct order.

            "Are you speaking Al-Bhed to me?"  She tried to make a joke, something she lacked much skill in to begin with, but it fell flat and died.  There were more pressing matters at hand than the Al-Bhed.

            The air was getting colder and the fire dimmer.  Wakka turned to stir it, but Lulu reached forward and grabbed his arm.  She did this without thinking, like an instinct, and soon they were in close contact again.

            "I…"  She usually had something to say, some witty retort or some jaded opinion, but now, speaking of herself, there was nothing.  No words at all, no clear thoughts.

            Wakka could not bear to have her so close and not tell her.  "Lu…oh, Lu, let me take care of you," was all he said, and this he whispered into her ear roughly, scratching her cheek with his stubbly sideburns.

            And it was then that she fell completely into his arms, and he had taken her to bed, and everything was finally released, into the open.  All their hidden emotions, so well concealed that the two people had not even known of their existence until now.  And, when it was all over, Wakka had cradled Lulu in his arms once more, had put his fish pendant around her neck, and had whispered, "I love you."

- - -

Hey, thanks for all the reviews so far!  I really appreciate any comments you have to make.

To answer a question…  the title of the story, "Vunajan du Sa", is Al-Bhed for "Forever to Me", which is an emotional song by the Japanese group The Brilliant Green.  I really like the song, and the story is kind of based on some of the English lyrics, which I might include in later chapters.

The next chapter is probably going to focus more on Rikku and Yuna, because I'm worried people might get fed up with the Wakka/Lulu drama…^.^`  So stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of _Vunajan Du Sa_, right here on the FanFiction Network.  XD


	5. Introspection

- - -

            Before dawn, the two Al-Bhed and the single impostor were standing in the lobby, about ready to go.  Zysac was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and Rikku was negotiating the price of some cloaks from Myesa.

            They all tiptoed around when they had to move, and spoke in hushed whispers when communication was necessary.  They did not want to wake the other guests.

            Somehow, however, just as they had finally wrapped up for the trek up the mountain, just as Zysac adjusted the heavy pack of supplies on his back, a stranger emerged from the hall.

            It was a girl, or young woman, wearing a long dress of black with a pattern of purplish flames rising up from the hem.  The sleeves were incredibly long and they went wide towards her hands, which hung low.  Over all of this she had a lighter cloak with a white collar that was attached with a gold charm at her neck.  The cloak went down to her knees in back, but in the front it only covered her arms.  On it were black flames over a light purple background, the opposite of her dress.

            Her face was unmistakable:  The lines crossing over her forehead, eyes and cheeks were sure signs of Guado heritage.   Her hair was frizzy and red, and stuck out in two small pigtails behind her strangely long and pointed ears.  And her eyes were cold, fixed determinedly on Yuna.

            "Good morning," Yuna said cordially, wiping away the delicate silence that penetrated the air.

            The Guado girl raised her head and inspected Yuna intently.  She did not even waste her eyes on Rikku or Zysac.  Her lips were closed, folded tightly over one another in a fine line.

            "Let's get going," Rikku said in Al-Bhed, and she walked to open the door.  Zysac followed obediently.  Yuna was close behind, but she gave two polite nods to the remaining occupants of the Travel Agency.

            They had walked several yards when they realized they had company.  The Guado had pursued, had jogged and was now catching up.  Rikku growled audibly.

            "What are you—?" began the younger woman, but Yuna interrupted.

            "Hello, is there something you need from us?" she said to the newcomer.

            "You are Lady Yuna," the girl said.  Her voice was crisp, high but somehow as cold as the air around them.  "You are Lord Seymour's widow."

            Yuna wondered if she should explain—if you _could_ explain.  Should she say, "But Seymour was dead when I married him," or something like that?  Instead, she just stood, and wondered, and the girl stared back.

            Rikku seemed upset that the disguise she had worked so hard on was transparent to a dirty _Guado_, among all things.  She moved from side to side gingerly, almost in her old battle stance.

            "I would recognize you everywhere after all you did," said the Guado, and, somehow, Yuna knew not to take this as a compliment, as such comments usually were intended.  How could a compliment be delivered in such a disgusted tone of voice?  The stranger sneered, "I'm not stupid like them."  She gestured with her head back towards the building where they had all spent the night.

            "What, your friends?" Yuna tried to say, but the wind and the dry snow came up in a roar and soon they were surrounded with a white sandstorm, which bit angrily into their skin.

            "I'll be watching," Yuna thought she heard the Guado say next.  But when wind settled down a few moments later, she was alone with her two traveling companions.

            "What a creep," moaned Rikku, pulling the coverings around herself, especially her sleek, otherwise bare legs.  "Let's just hurry up before this blizzard gets any worse—or those weirdos track us down."

            Yuna nodded.  Rikku's bad mood had failed to evaporate over night, like she had hoped.  And the boy was still quiet, shivering in the unfamiliar cold.  This was his first time traveling away from Bikanel Island since New Home had begun, and his very first experience in the north.

            They started up the steep slope, careful to stick to the middle of the precarious path, their feet crunching with each slow step.  It was slow going and a bit scary at times when the wind came up.  At these points, Yuna crouched down so that her knees scraped the surface of the snow.  She was worried about getting knocked off balance, off the path, and perhaps off this world.

            Rikku, who was more sure footed, would stand and huddle and complain for the few minutes until the wind finally rested long enough for them to continue.

            Zysac would plant his feet firmly in the snow.  He seemed like wanted to tremble in fear, but his dignity prohibited such behavior.  He was a teenage boy accompanied by two older women, and he was afraid to show such weakness to them, enough though he felt like he was riddled with it constantly.

            It was in this way they found their way eventually to the Ronso village of Mount Gagazet, a place hidden past a remote peak, carved from the sacred stone itself.  The houses were protected in this manmade valley, but they still were built of sturdy logs, which had been painstakingly transported up the mountain during better months.

            From every rooftop came a giant plume of smoke from the life-giving fires burning inside, although the thick fur of the Ronso usually seemed to be sufficient protection against the cold wind.

            From the peak, there was a carved staircase with huge, wide stairs that led down into the depths of the densely populated valley.  The stairs were treacherous, first caked with snow, and then with a layer of ice on the surface.  The travelers lost their footing more than once, but managed to catch themselves (or each other) on these occasions.

            Yuna bowed out of habit once they had finally reached safe, flat land.  The Ronso had created a layer of soil a few feet deep on the bottom of the valley, so that they could grow the heartiest of plants in summer time.  So, there was consequently less ice, even on the well-beaten path of crunched snow.

            "Hey!" Rikku called out to some children who were rolling around joyously in the snow.

            The children got up reluctantly and skipped over.  They were two small girls, their bodies coated in thick, dark fur, and their clothes the small dresses of the females of their kind.  They had no horns, like their male counterparts, having only lighter fur on the tops of their heads and decorative bands over their bright eyes.

            Rikku bent over and smiled at them.  "Hey there," she greeted cheerfully.  "Would you run and find Kimahri for us, hmm?"

            The girls looked at each other, nodded, then turned to face Rikku, and nodded again.  "Yes, Miss Rikku," they said politely, speaking more fluidly than Yuna had ever known a Ronso to speak.  As for Yuna, the girls grinned at her, too, and at Zysac, only a bit more shyly.

            As they scurried off, Rikku twisted around in her boots on the soft snow.  "The storm apparently isn't so bad here," she said.  Her mood seemed to have lightened when she saw the young children.

            "Do you know those girls?  They are very cute," Yuna said.  The only people she was used to seeing were those who came and paid her endless visits back on Besaid.  Not many Ronso came, and none of the race's children had made the journey.

            Rikku nodded.  "We played some games with 'Teacher Kimahri' when I was last here…  Speaking of that, the weather was a lot nicer then," she added, the dark cloud rushing back over her blond head.

            Yuna folded her hands in front of her loosely and looked around with polite curiosity.  She really should have come here before, come to visit Kimahri.  When this was all over, she might travel a lot more, she considered.  She wouldn't let herself think that an ill end might come from all of this, or that when she finally came home, she would have too much work to do getting rid of suitors.

             In a few minutes, a giant man emerged, even though he was not quite a giant among his own people.  His fur was a deep shade of blue, with some grays and whites.  On his back were wings, among all things, and a broken horn protruded from his forehead over shining golden eyes.

            "Kimahri!" Yuna greeted happily, and she came up to her old friend and embraced him.  She had not seen him for over a year.  "It's good to see you."

            Kimahri flashed his awkward-looking smile earnestly down at her.  At first he was confused, but she was unmistakable to someone who had stayed at her side for over ten years.  "Yuna."

            "Kimahri, how 'bout you show us ladies some manners and take us inside, huh?" Rikku suggested teasingly.

            Kimahri nodded and he led them to a large house at one end of the village.  Inside, a dozen children were scuttling around, some tending the two fires on either end of the enormous main room, others dusting or wiping tables, and one or two were even huddled into corners pouring over old books.

            The Ronso man had his new guests sit at a small round table on the far end of the room, right next to one of the fireplaces.  One of the girls from before brought a plate with hot drinks and some warm snacks, bread stuffed with various seasoned meats and vegetables.  Ronso cooking wasn't too everyone's liking, and it usually was minimalist due to the lack of fresh food sources.  However, the children had just happened to be experimenting with new recipes for the afternoon meal. 

            "Why visit with storm?" Kimahri asked.

            "We're on a mission!" Rikku exclaimed, happy due to the warmth filling her stomach from the food.  "Hey, these are good!" she commented, taking another of the cylindrical buns.  A few of the Ronso children beamed in the background, unnoticed.

            "Mission?"

            "About that sphere you found," Yuna explained, and she was unable to disguise her eagerness.  "With…him…"  She took the thing from her pouch, where it had been since the first day she watched it.

            "The broken sphere," was all the Ronso said, but he nodded his great head up and own, the two braids swinging from side to side.

            "I don't know if it's broken," Rikku said, "but it _is_ a bit messed up.  The picture's pretty bad.  You can still kinda seem him, though."

            "Where did you find it?" Yuna wanted to know.

            Kimahri thought for a minute.  "Children find it.  Say it up near sacred wall…"  Now he wore a distinct frown.  "They should not play there."

            Yuna felt chills travel her spine at the mention of the wall of fayth, the place where the dreams were created, where he was created…

            "I don't get why it would be there."  Rikku took a quick sip of the brownish drink, her lips pursing when she received the full bitterness of it.  "Woah," she said quietly, and wasn't so thirsty all of a sudden.

            Yuna turned the contorted object over and over in her hands, somehow afraid of turning it on.  What if the image of him didn't appear, what if she couldn't hear his voice again, see him again?

            "Should we go investigate?" Rikku asked.  "Wait…the storm."  She snapped her fingers.

            "You stay here, I go look," Kimahri announced, standing.

            "Ohh…let's just all wait around 'til the storm's over and go together."  Rikku clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in a very relaxed position.  Now that the blood was moving steadily in her veins, she felt good.  "Yunie has to see this for herself, you know?"

             "I get rooms," he announced, and went off to make arrangements for their boarding.

            When the Ronso had left, Zysac turned to Yuna and asked in his native language, "What have you been talking about?"  Up until now, he'd been sitting quietly with the enormous backpack on the floor in front of him.  He had eaten a little, sipped a little, and was mostly content.  It was just he could not understand.

            "It's about our mission," Rikku replied, annoyance fringing the edges of her words.

            "We'll be resting here until the storm clears, and then we will go further up the mountain," Yuna added, much more kindly.  She pulled the goggles from over her eyes and let them sit on top of her shiny brown hair.  Her cloak she had folded over her arms in her lap.

            "It's not his fault he can't understand," Yuna said to her cousin in a whisper.  "Why are you so snappy with him, Rikku?"

            Rikku just sighed.  "I know, I just get irritated with him for some reason.  I should have brought someone else."

            Yuna didn't comment at the time; she didn't believe it was exactly moral to argue over Zysac when he was sitting right there.  Even if he was clueless as to their conversation—which he obviously wasn't.  His eyes were on the floor, and he had the aura about him of a guilty child just waiting to be punished while his parents decide on the sentence.

            Yuna made a mental note to discuss this very seriously with Rikku later.

            Kimahri returned and told them that they would be staying with his late mother's friend, who ran an inn of sorts, but it was more like a boarding house.  It was just next door to this building, the big open room filled with children, that Rikku told her companions was an orphanage.

            Rikku dragged Zysac along to unpack at their new lodgings, but Yuna said she needed to go for a little walk to clear her head.  After the struggle up the mountain, the two looked quizzically at her, wondering how she could possibly need any more of the bitterly cold air in her lungs.

            Yuna had her goggles fastened tightly over her eyes and the cloak's hood wrapped securely around her hair, the rest of the garment buttoned up to shelter her body all the way down to her ankles.  She rubbed her gloved hands together vigorously as the afternoon sun, still hidden for the most part by clouds, began to melt away behind the silvery peaks that jutted out into the gray sky.

            She strolled around the perimeter of the central, open area similar to that on Besaid.  She smiled friendlily at those who passed, but, for the most part, she resigned herself to deep thought.

            For some reason, she first thought of Lulu.  The dramatic changes in the women's relationship over the last year were a tender topic for Yuna's heart, but now, at a more than safe distance from home, she was relatively comfortable to consider it.

            I hate you.

            It was what she had told her dearest friend in all the world.  It was the most hurtful thing to say, and the words, at the time, had been designed to inflict pain.  And, above all else, it was something that could not be taken back.

            Yuna had not hated Lulu then, and she never for a second believed she did.  The thing she hated was what Lulu had said. That, just maybe, there was truth behind it.

            The conflict was a result of Yuna's own, overpowering weakness, she knew.  She had insisted Tidus was still alive, that he would come back to her somehow, or maybe she could find him.  But some part of her began to doubt, and that doubt was a hidden cancer that grew ever so slowly with each passing day.  Sometimes, it swelled up so terribly that she had to acknowledge it, and that was a horrendous feeling.

            Yuna worried she had been lying to herself too long.  Maybe it was a lie.  Maybe she had been self-medicating herself with the story that Tidus would come back in order to cure herself from the crushing loneliness.

            If it wasn't a lie, then why did she have doubts?  And, if it was, how long could she keep it up?  How long had she had been under the illusion, and what could happen when she finally emerged from the warm cocoon?

            There were occasions when the Summoner scolded herself vehemently, much worse than Lulu, about her recent path in life.  Before meeting Tidus, Yuna had been strong, a bit scared, maybe, but able to face most challenges.  With him, she gained a sort of special power, the strength that comes from happiness, from having someone you love believe in you and your goals wholeheartedly.

            But, without Tidus, she had crumbled, her self-control degrading rapidly to a point where strength only lay on her tough shell.  With fantasies, and perhaps what were lies, she possessed a superficial sort of courage to face the day and its simple struggles.  At these points, those around her would sort of smile and pray on the inside that she was happy, that there was finally a break in the clouds, a shaft of light penetrating the darkness.

            Yuna was used to living for other people's happiness.  She had even been prepared to sacrifice her life for it.  She wondered before concerning which was the greatest gift, one's life or one's death, but never had come to any sort of conclusion.

            It was not until her need to die had disappeared with Sin that she had discovered the answer.

            Yuna had always cherished people. It was something that was just born in her:  a simple, undying love for all the goodness and beauty humanity possessed.  Her mother had shown her true devotion, as had her father, even though both left their daughter early in life.  After that, there was always Kimahri, Lulu, Wakka, and the elders of Besaid Temple around, to watch over and nurture her.

            She had grown up with simple people living their lives as best they could.  Most were facing the first Calm in a great many years, and their faces were always filled with joy.  There was no time for malice or squabbling, not when peace existed everywhere to be exploited.

            Yuna had seen this safety ripped away when Sin returned.  As soon as she saw one child cry tears for a dead parent, her mind was made up to become a Summoner, to do what her father had done for the wonderful people of Spira.  She had known her entire life—and all to well—what it meant to be a Summoner, to give of yourself to beckon forth the most powerful spirits, the fayth, to finally give your whole self in order to kill Sin.

             Yuna was blessed enough to go on a journey with her closest friends, who also possessed powerful skills of physical brawn and magic.  And then she was fortunate to receive the additional aid of the master guardian Sir Auron, the thievery of her Al-Bhed cousin Rikku, and, lastly, the courage and confidence of a misplaced young blitzer.

            Yuna had always planned on a great pilgrimage, what would be the journey of her life.  She wanted to see all she could of the world, become friends with everyone she met, and to laugh and feel good.  Being Braska's only child, and then, on top of that, a Summoner, there was already the weight of the world on her shoulders.  She had learned to smile and laugh when she wanted to cry.  But, on this journey, she wanted true laughter, true happiness, and she had gotten it.

            Something she hadn't counted on was falling in love.

            That had complicated things severely.  At times it gave her an elated feeling, but, at others, it filled her with despair.  She knew she and Tidus could never be together, not if she was to die, not if he belonged to another world.  He was always there to support her, and she worried for him, if he would mourn her like Lulu did for Chappu.  The few kisses Tidus gave her and the few times they clasped hands meant everything to Yuna, but she could not dwell on love like other girls her age did.

            But then, with Tidus's determination, Yuna's party had found another solution, had brought the Eternal Calm, had saved their Summoner's life.  But then faded Tidus, who, perhaps, was never quite real at all, not in the way most are part of reality.  With him went Sir Auron and all the other Unsent, but it was their time to go—past time.

            And it was then that living became a chore, a struggle.  Yuna felt even more pressure than before, but this time it was to be happy in order to make others happy, not simply continue on like before.  The people looked to her as a leader for this new world, the Spira that belonged to the living, but a realm that had lost practically all leadership.

            If the goal of each day was not any longer to survive Sin, to fight Sin, to live in spite of Sin, then what was it?  If there was no Yevon, then who was to hear the pleas of the faithful?  If the Maesters were gone, who would bring order to the many groups, who would maintain peace between the races?

            There were no answers to these questions, no definite ones, not yet.  There were a million opinions but no agreements, no compromises.  People with similar ideals had banded together.  Some wanted to bring a stable religion back—those of New Yevon.  Others desired a very democratic society run by the young and energetic—the Young Persons' Alliance.  These were the major groups, and they shared the most conflicts, but a dozen other similar organizations popped up everywhere.

            Yuna had been pleaded with time and time again to marry the leader of such-and-such group, to take charge of these people, to become a High Maetress—the most shocking proposal, Yuna believed.  Even though she passionately objected, it seemed that, in a few years, she might be given the reigns to Spira whether she liked it or not.

            Even if she had no title as of yet, Yuna was given the unspoken task of carrying the hopes and dreams of the people.  Wherever she went, many sets of concerned eyes followed her, tsked at the dark rain cloud which seemed forever poised above her beautiful head, asked if there was anything they could do to cheer her up a little.  And these were her friends.

            She was always terribly busy turning visitors down for this thing and that, but she still found time to mourn for Tidus, to pity herself, to endure a pain as eternal as the Calm.

            And she realized that her power over her emotions was slowly crumbling.  She had started lashing out randomly against it, doing things such as losing her composure in front of a noble guest, things such as telling her best friend she hated her.

            The sun was completely gone now, and the gray sky steadily approached the deepest shade of black.  It was still early, but the light snuck out early during the winter season, perhaps to escape the cold.

            Yuna paused behind a building to gain a little relief from the wind.  The children had slowly trickled inside, moving their endless play indoors at the assistance of their hornless mothers.

            She breathed in the strong scent of wood—something close to cedar—and sighed.  She had been happy before when the giggles of the young and innocent had tickled her ears, for it seemed as though the only truly happy people were those who didn't know any better.

            Yuna had missed a great part of her childhood, what with her mother and father gone, and that special pain you can hide from others but not yourself.  Yuna always felt a little lonely, no matter what was going on.  It was only with Tidus that…

            The wind changed directions, looping around Yuna's shelter and blowing straight in her face to beat it until it was red.  She gave a little cry and ducked her head, folding in on her knees to slink down the wall in a safe ball.

            It seemed to Yuna many times that life was a curse when you doubt what you want to believe.

            A person sees life through his own eyes.  He sees things as he wants them to be, and to him they are so.  His ears pick up the voices he wants to hear call for him, he smells the scent of the flowers he loves most, and he tastes only what he believes is the best food of life.

            However, when the fiend known as doubt is present, this person's world crumbles slowly.  He tries to erase the images of suffering and pain from his mind's eye, but they won't be scrubbed out.  He talks to himself with the voices he needs, but his heart senses the farce.  The flowers and food have gone rancid.

            This enemy had been sneaking up on Yuna for a great while.

            She headed back to join her friends.  _I must find Tidus soon_, she told herself.  _I will, I will find him…_

            There was a bad taste in her mouth.

- - -


	6. Uncertainty

- - -

            "Hold still," she ordered, faking irritation.

            Wakka grumbled, put held his back as straight as he could, with his head as level as he could.

            "Good," Lulu told him.  She wrapped an old blanket around his bare shoulders, and took up an old pair of scissors.  She had just dunked his head in a shallow dish of water, massaging in the remainders of her soaps.

            At another time, Wakka might have protested against playing beauty parlor.  However, it was something to occupy their time while they sat and worried.  How strong was the storm—how close would it come to Besaid?  Should they go to the temple after all?  What would happen?

            "It's time to get rid of this spike," announced Lulu proudly.  She added confidence to her voice to make up for what lacked on the inside.  She hadn't minded Wakka's hair too much, honestly; it was something she had grown accustomed to, since he'd adopted the ridiculous style some years before.

            As Wakka heard the rapid snips begin overhead, he closed his eyes to escape the falling scraps of orange, suddenly doubting his lover's artistic skill.  In a way, his hair didn't mean anything to him, not if it meant Lulu's happiness and their shared distraction.  Yet, somehow, it was letting go of part of the past, of more foolish times.  But he was older now—twenty-seven—and perhaps he couldn't cling to his locks any longer.

            It didn't take long to take a small scythe to the man's extensive waves of grain, but Lulu spent the better part of an hour circling him, combing this strand and trimming that.  She wanted it to be perfect.

            "Hey, why's this such a big deal?" wondered Wakka, squinting as her scissors passed over his eyes for the twentieth time.

            "Your hair has to be perfect for our wedding—weren't we talking about this before?"  She sounded irritated again; annoyed as though he were her student and she was an upset tutor.

            "Aw, it'll grow out by then," he said.

            Lulu wondered if these lines were fed to them by their worrying consciences, if the two of them were acting in a play.  Neither of the people knew for sure there would be a wedding—much less a tomorrow.  So they spoke such optimistic comments in order to try and keep up the brave front, the comforting front, so they didn't have to delve into the matters that truly occupied their minds.

            Lulu delivered her next line expertly.  "Well, then I'll just have to cut it again!" she cried out, as if she were a blushing bride who got overly excited about the most trivial of things.

            "You done yet?"

            "Yes, yes, hold on a sec…"  She did a quick comb-through and removed the sheet.  "Okay."  She stood back, and looked at him.  His hair had that shaggy quality, but she commended herself for a job well done.  The last time she had cut hair must have been ten years ago, when she used to do the job for the younger Yuna and Chappu every few months.

            "How I look?" he wondered.

            "How _do_ you look, it is—and I would say very mature.  For once, Wakka."  She stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his warm body.  It was a transparent effort to conceal her sudden weakness.

            "Let's sit down…ya?"  Wakka was saying, but the wind swelled up suddenly and the whole hut trembled loudly in protest.  Biting his lip, the man guided Lulu over to the bed anyway, pulling her across so that her back was against the wall and her legs went straight out on the mattress top.  He sat cross-legged perpendicular to the woman.

            There was a pause in the weather before the sky opened up, sending an army of angry pellets of water from the clouds straight to the earth and all that had sprung from it.  The house was definitely a target, the rain thundering down endlessly in booming assaults.

            "Wakka…?" Lulu asked faintly, but Wakka was smart enough to read his own name on her lips.

            "This house," he replied loudly in order to be understood, "was built by my father many years ago, and it's survived Sin a dozen times."  His accent was strengthened by his conviction, even though Lulu had been tutoring him to speak in a more educated manner for quite some time.

            Lulu didn't mind the absence of a clear 'th' sound this time.  She saw the true courage in Wakka's face, and that was enough insurance for her.  Here, in this house, close together…here, she would be safe.  No matter what.

            She reached out her hand to him, and he cradled it above his lap, stroking her fingers half absentmindedly, half intently.  It was obvious his brain was wandering around, but Wakka's crystal clear eyes lay focused on his love's face.

            "We cannot talk very well, can we?" Lulu shouted over the noise.  She wasn't much for shouting.

            "Ya," he replied, and a big grin spread across his face.  He had a good idea.  He pulled himself closer to Lulu, whispered into her ear, and immediately began to massage her body with his hands slowly and strongly, all the while moving his lips across her face.

            Lulu surrendered herself just as quickly to his touch, sensing with a tinge of pain that Wakka had to be a bit forceful with himself in order to be so casual like this.  He pushed doubly hard as he pulled his hands down her arms, overcompensating for the hesitation.  She chose to ignore it and respond to him normally, fighting to control his mouth with her lips and attempting to restrain his neck with her hands.

            It was a little game they played, and he would always try to wrench his face away in order to kiss her ear, or neck, or whatever else he pleased.  Lulu would always end up giggling at some point, because their struggle became so ridiculous.  In normal circumstances, the two might have tumbled over each other—even off the bed.  But now they improvised, and the best they could manage was to lay parallel, Wakka almost on top but not quite.

             Lulu caught herself thinking about how great it would be when they could play again, with no barrier to stop Wakka from being right up against her (nowadays, even a normal hug was impossible).  She was even going to say something about it, but she stopped, stopped moving and everything.  _There probably will not be such a time, Lulu…_

            She wondered when she had resigned herself to die.

            Wakka looked at her, opened his mouth when a huge clap of thunder silenced him, and something suddenly rammed up against one of the windows.  It sounded like a huge piece of debris—possibly a chunk of a less stable house.

            Wakka launched himself to his feet, like he might actually go outside and check to see what it was, but Lulu gave a start.

            "Idiot!  What the hell do you think you're doing?" she growled angrily.  "Going out there?"

            Wakka backed off, tail between his legs, looking very much like a kicked puppy.  Lulu realized how cruel she had just been, but she couldn't come up with an apology good enough for him.  Frozen, the two stared at each other with slightly shocked, slightly helpless expressions.

            "This is hopeless," the woman said to herself, and she let her eyes slip to the ground.  But then, there was this strange tightening feeling in her stomach…  It was strange, but her blood ran cold to think what it could be.

            The feeling passed, and she tried to forget it.

            "Something wrong?"

            "Wakka…"  She reached up until he took both her hands.  She pulled him so he bent over and put his face right near hers until they kissed.  All she could think was, _Today might be the last day…  The last day of my life, the last day I am with him…_

            Wakka was grinning, his mouth still tingling with the afterglow of the affection.  "Ya, I'm sorry," he told her.  "I wouldn't really go outside, ya know?"

            Lulu leaned on his shoulder, trying to imbed herself in his protected aura…  At least he was safe from most of the worries and regrets that filled her heart.  She wanted to feel that way for a moment, too.

            It wasn't a condescending thing to think, was it?  That Wakka had less troubles than she?  Maybe she was being a fool…  She had plenty of troubles locked inside, so everyone else must, too…  But hers were the most pressing at the moment.  It couldn't be helped.  She might…  She might…

            Wakka just kept grinning at her.  He ruffled her hair lovingly.

            Lulu had had a problem she couldn't quite explain.  She was queasy, and in an ill temperament—worse than usual.  She couldn't put her finger on the problem, but maybe that was because she could not admit it to herself, not just yet.

            Life had been going more or less smoothly.  Lulu and Yuna had been keeping themselves a safe distance apart, usually avoiding each other completely.  A similar situation had arisen with Wakka, but for a completely different reason.

            Lulu had never been one to blush, stutter, or loose her absolute composure.  Especially not over a _man_.  Not even Chappu had been able to conjure up any outward sign of embarrassment from his cool-minded girlfriend.  Now, however, even when she merely _thought_ of Wakka, Lulu became flustered, which sparked anger within.

            And that Wakka…he could be such a stammering idiot anyway, it made the two of them made a rather pitiful pair to say the very least.  Lulu's contempt for her own childish behavior grew to such an extreme that she could not face Wakka.  Though, when the night grew cold, her heart was painfully reminded of its new need for him to be close.

            One night, Wakka cornered Lulu, surprising her by appearing right outside her door when she came home from a thoughtful stroll.

            She clenched her fist and took control, tilting her head to one side and saying in a refined voice, "Oh, have you been waiting long?"

            "Half hour maybe," he replied through chattering teeth.  "I bought some treats, but…"  He held up his hand meekly to reveal a small fruit baked in a flaky pastry crust, hardened over with a caramelized sauce.  It was a favorite in the area, but always meant to be served hot.

            Lulu, feeling guilty, opened the door and gestured for him to enter the darkened hut.  She saw his hand droop and the present fall to collect dirt and gray snow as it rolled away.

            "I guess I'll go…"

            "No…that is…" Lulu searched for words in the shadows.  "Please stay."

            They got settled, and went to sit on the bed.  Both were well protected from the cold with warm winter clothing, and the woman was short on firewood.  There was no fire, only faint musings to illuminate the situation.

            "I guess I thought things…ya know, they might be a bit different, ya?" Wakka said, and she could hear him gripping at his own hands, wringing them out with frustration.

            "I…I…"  Lulu didn't know how to explain.  She didn't have an explanation—unforgivable.  She should know everything about herself.  Wasn't she in charge of her own feelings?  "I fear I am…_weird_ around you."

            "Weird?"

            "I get all childish…like a teenaged girl, or something.  I never felt this way before."

            "I thought we was more serious about each other," muttered Wakka, misinterpreting her words.  "We…"

            "I am, and I do love you…"

            They both stopped, holding their breath.  One breath might ruin the moment, might somehow reverse the very recent past.

            Wakka had said he loved her, that day a few weeks ago when they had discovered sudden, passionate feelings for each other.  But she had never said it aloud before.  Wakka had feared what they shared was a moment of desperation for her, not a long-awaited climax to building emotion as it was with him.

            "Why you avoid me?" he asked.

            "I'm embarrassed…  I…  It…  It happened so suddenly."  The words started coming out before she could think of them.  "I mean, I have never gone so far…and…I…  I was embarrassed that I turned out to have fragile modesty after all…"

            "It's okay, Lu…  It was just between us," he tried to comfort her.

            "Wakka, I'm going to have a baby!"

            She was as shocked as he was, maybe more so.  She had not wanted to tell herself the truth…but…

            "Mine?"

            "Idiot."

            And then, she felt scared, for the first time in so long.  What if Wakka couldn't handle it?  What if he didn't believe her?  What if he blamed her?

            "I'm happy," Wakka said earnestly, almost crushing her in a quick and heavy embrace.  The gentleness of his words gave Lulu no chance to doubt the sincerity behind them.  She had never known Wakka to lie, either; he usually left his truest, most violent feelings on the outside for all to see.  Perhaps it never occurred to him to bother concealing anything.

             "I'm sorry," she cried into his chest.  "I didn't meant to…  It just happened…"

            "Hey, I didn't mind, ya?"  He placed his hands on either side of her face and pulled his fingers back through his hair until he was holding her delicate head in his own two hands.  He thought it felt good, to touch her like this and be close to her.

            Lulu had never been comfortable with showing any vulnerability, but it seemed all right for Wakka to see it.  After all, he made her feel at ease with it somehow.  Maybe it was because he so absolutely believed in her strength.  Maybe any fragility she allowed him to see did not tarnish the clear vision he had of her.

            "I've never…cried in front of anyone…but you, Wakka," Lulu confessed.  "Not since my parents died."  She did not really need to add the last part; most of their generation had suffered the loss of parents sometime early in life.  It was practically a given everyone was an orphan.

            Wakka tugged his fingers through her long hair, letting the smooth black strands wrap around each thick digit.  "A baby, huh?" he mused.  His hand took the privilege of running down her body to her stomach.  It was the first time he touched the small life that was just beginning there.

            "You are not upset with me?" sniffed Lulu.

            "It my fault more'n yours," he chuckled softly.  "I just couldn't resist ya."  His lips groped their way down her forehead to her cheek, just in front of her ear so she could hear the soft, steady breathing and feel the moist air so very close.

             Lulu found herself smiling through the tears.  It was the first time she felt a bit of confidence about the baby.  "Wakka…?"

            She did not need to finish the sentence.

            "Ya.  I'll take of you, Lu," he assured her.  These were, she was sure, the most wonderful words in the entire world.

-

            Memories are nice.  But that's all they are.

            They belong on the inside…

            Rikku cuddled up with herself, hugging her knees underneath her chin and looking out on the twirling snowflakes gently bathed in filtered moonlight.  She wondered why she was so grumpy all the time lately.  Just this night, she had argued with Yuna about being nicer to Zysac.  Zysac, well…  Yuna didn't know everything about him, did she?

            _I don't know what's so wrong with me_, Rikku thought.  She was really worried about herself.  Most of the time she could put on a chipper face, but…  _Why can't I be like I used to be?  Am I becoming a bad person?  I spend too much time thinking about my own worries._

            Rikku sat on the windowsill, a shelf-type area that curved outward past the main wall of the house.  It was fairly high up, but the flexible Al-Bhed had found no difficulty in springing up there.  It was a sizable place, obviously meant for sitting.  But she could hardly imagine a Ronso climbing up here…

            _I was cheery up until we left the ship.  What changed, what changed inside?  Rikku felt as anxious about this nagging pain as she might about a bolt of lightning and the crashing of thunder nearby._

            Rikku sensed it was something about Zysac.  She had met the boy earlier that year when she was hard at work renovating her ship at New Home.  He had meekly asked if he might do her some sort of favor.  Rikku had been pretty tired at that time and wasn't really concentrating on anything but welding a new piece of metal over a breech in the hull.

            She had brushed him off without a second thought, and the boy hadn't talked to her for a month at least.  But she always saw him, and she always felt like he was watching…

            "Aw, you can't handle it?  It's only a little crush, baby daughter," Cid had guffawed when she had approached her father with these concerns.  "And why not?  My daughter is the prettiest thing in the world!"  His eyes had glinted then, quite strangely, causing his pride and joy to back away slowly.

            "Want me to tell him to lay off?" Rikku's brother had offered later that same day.

            "No…no…"  Rikku was left to sort things out on her own.  There was a certain loneliness in Zysac's eyes that penetrated his goggles, something that really hit home with her.  The cord it pulled in her heart was a strained one.

            The next time Rikku had to talk to Zysac, he acted as what turned out to be normally for him—quiet, obedient, unresisting.  She never caught him staring after her again.  Every time, however, that she had a task for him, he took it upon himself completely and did more than what was required.  She needed a bucket of water; he brought two.  She needed a floor cleaned; it was soon shiny enough to make out her detailed reflection in it.

            He often struggled with physical labor, and the other workers of his age found this endlessly amusing to poke fun at.  Zysac would never protest.  Instead, he would just stand there with silent acceptance.  Sometimes, to Rikku's enragement, he might even nod his head to their cruel comments.  But she could grasp no way to try and help without scolding him more.

            "You're right," he said often.  "I am…insufficient."  They were big, weighted words for a boy who looked so young, seemed so young…simply in the way he carried himself, the way he had no bold words for fate, the way he would trudge along through life with the orders of others his only guide.

            Rikku would only become more upset with him.  She cursed often about how his posture was bad.  "Cheer up!  Stand up straight!  The world is happy—why aren't you?"  The echoes of hypocrisy resounded within her each time.  But at least she was gleeful _part_ of the time; Zysac dragged depression around with him like a child might carry a beloved security blanket.  Without it, was he even less of a person than he was now?

            "I'm weak," he would tell her.  There was no courage inside to raise his eyes up to meet her beautiful emerald jewels, but plenty of power allowed Zysac's hands to squeeze each other behind him when Rikku addressed him.

            "You silly boy," the young woman muttered more times than she cared to count.  Each time, her blond hair would shake with her head, and she would step away to run about some other pressing task.

            Presently, she heard footsteps outside.  Being the curious person she was, Rikku emerged from her deep thought (she didn't like to do too much of it, anyway) and expertly crossed the room without making a sound.

            She opened the door just a crack and saw a flash of light reflecting off of light hair.  Well, she imagined it couldn't be a Ronso, so she pursued to see which of her traveling companions it was.

            Again, her feet moved silently.  She crouched low and stayed up against the wall, which was difficult in the long, restricting nightgown she had chosen to wear this night.  Her loose hair snagged on a nail in the wall, and it took all the control she possessed not to yelp in pain as she lost those strands to this hidden enemy.

            Rikku was surprised when the person she was following creaked open a door at the end of the hall and disappeared into it.  She danced after, more intrigued than ever that whoever it was ascended to the highest level of the house.

            At the top of the stairs was a very small room that stuck up out of the roof like a horn on a Ronso's head.  One side was up against the carved rock face and the other three were mostly comprised of large, single pane windows.

            There was a large bench on the dark side of the room, a wooden one situated so that any occupant of it could look out and witness all the splendor the Ronso-created valley had to hold.

            Presently, Rikku stepped in.  She looked up and gave a little squeak, her blond hair falling over her face gently, the wave curving around her small nose for a dramatic, mature affect.  She had made a mistake; the person she had been following was not Yuna or Zysac.  It was Kimahri.  It must have seen his silver braid she saw in the dimness downstairs.

            "You follow Kimahri?" the man wondered, his deep voice resounding in the circular room.

            Rikku brought her slender, bare arm up and tucked the fallen hair behind her ear.  She scratched the back of her head and smiled so big her eyes closed.  "Eh…yeah."  Her voice was meek.

            Kimahri made a noise like "hmm", but it could have been thunder grumbling in the distance for all the Al-Bhed knew.  She considered the Ronso carefully.  Yes, she liked Kimahri; she admired his bravery and determination, especially the way he protected Yuna like a big brother.  But he never really acted like he had much of a personality of his own—even that he kept inside.  She didn't know any Ronsos well, so maybe they were all like that.  Nonetheless, he was very hard to read.

            She had seen him a bit more at ease several weeks before, when she had first attained the sphere.  He had been showing children some slow martial arts moves that would help improve their flexibility and reflexes, and growing (teasingly so) impatient with them.  He had even chuckled with one little boy—what a rare thing to see Kimahri laugh!

            "Sit," Kimahri said, and he moved his large body over on the bench to allow the woman plenty of room.

            Rikku was the friendly type, so she scooted over and plopped down next to him.  She was curious about why he was over here and climbing up the steps.  Besides, now she had company.  She didn't have to be alone with her own doubts for the time being.

            "So, why're ya here?" she started off right away.  "Don't you stay with the kids?"

            "Kimahri like to watch here," he replied.  He lifted one arm from where it was folded across his chest and waved towards the opposing wall, out to the sparkling silver world.

            Rikku took this opportunity to see that the clouds had stepped aside for the moon in the far sky, allowing some sharp beacons of light to shed their beauty on the sparkling white world and the graceful flakes.  "Pretty," she whistled, leaning back on the bench and kicking up her naked feet.

            Kimahri merely nodded.  "How is Rikku?" he asked after a while, as though he had been struggling to form an appropriate question in his mind.

            Rikku pursed her lips, sticking them out in a slanted manner to show a sort of pouty and mellow expression.  With her pretty young face framed by sparkling golden locks, she made a rather preoccupied-looking lady, like the troubles of the world rested on her poor, fragile little shoulders.

            Perhaps they did.

            "Well, you know…" she started out slowly and carefully, drawing out her words in a serious way that almost seemed too much.  "I'm just kinda grumpy lately.  I try to be happy but it can be hard sometimes."

            "Why is that?" Kimahri replied, this time without the pause.

            Rikku studied his warrior features carefully, seeing in them all the sincerity and nobility of the Ronso people.  She worked hard to come up with a good enough answer for him, searching as far as the depths of her heart.

            She took a deep breath and began.  "It's just that…  Oh, I don't know.  I see everyone around me—maybe not _everyone_, but lots of people.  They just aren't truly happy. They have a lot weighing on them, and they're so darn _down_ I can't help but feel that way too—for them, you know?

            "The worst part is…I can't figure out any sort of way of making them better.  I try but it's either useless or it makes them feel worse.  I…I…I feel like a failure."

            "Kimahri know."  The Ronso hesitated, then lifted up one great paw and placed it delicately on Rikku's head.  "Kimahri think Rikku help people best when Rikku is Rikku."

            Rikku tilted her head to the side.  A grin gradually grew upon her face, until her sweet face was beaming brighter than the pale orb far beyond the windows.  "Really?  Think I should stay happy?  For other people?"

            "No.  Rikku be happy for Rikku, then Rikku help friends."  Kimahri gently rubbed the top of her head and took his hand away, the shimmering strands slipping off his claws easily.

            "Okay, I see."  She placed her hands under her seat and rocked back and forth on the cold bench, ignoring the goosebumps that were multiplying on her arms.  The nightgown she was wearing was very simple; it had no sleeves, and was just material from her bust to her shins, held up with two spaghetti straps that crisscrossed on her back.  The light material was perfect for Al-Bhed weather—that of the constantly scorching desert—but it was of little use in the land of Ronso.

            "Rikku cold?" Kimahri asked.

            "A little," she admitted shyly.

            Kimahri nodded.  He stood up and left immediately, returning in a few minutes with a large blanket, which he in turn dumped on her shoulders clumsily.

            "Oh, thanks!" the woman said earnestly, wrapping the thing about her like a cloak.  It dwarfed her considerably, obviously being intended to cover a fully-grown Ronso.

             "Better?"

            "Yep!"  Rikku noticed the thing smelled a bit like Kimahri did, and she was a little embarrassed to think he had hastily ripped it off his own bed, and not fetched it from a closet or something like that.

            "So, are you staying here?" she wondered.

            "Eh?  Kimahri can stay here, with Aunt," he explained roughly.  "Sometimes, others watch children.  Kimahri stay so he take care of Yuna and Rikku in case of trouble."

            "Hey, Kimahri…can I ask you something else too?"

            "Rikku can talk to Kimahri about anything," he declared gently, lowering the level of his voice as a courtesy to those who rested on the floors below.

            Rikku smiled, taking in the sort of musty scent of the room and the masculine one the blanket had received from Kimahri.  She liked the Ronso.  They were a simple people, maybe a bit trusting to a fault when it had come to Yevon, but they were earnest, hardworking, and decent.  The Al-Bhed felt like she could always trust in them to follow their beliefs and morals to the very end, and this was truly a righteous quality.

            "Rikku?" prompted Kimahri.

            Rikku giggled a bit, laughing at herself for getting lost in thinking about the Ronso so much she forgot to address the one right next to her.  "I just wanted to know if you ever miss them…and do you miss the way things used to be, when we were on the pilgrimage?"

            "Mmm," Kimahri grunted, his head bowing firmly to accentuate his feelings.  "Tidus and Auron great men.  Kimahri never forget."

            "I think I miss them too much sometimes," Rikku added, sighing softly.  Again, her hair draped in graceful waves across her face, but she merely puffed with her lips in a fine circle.  "So much I kinda feel sorry for myself.  I never like it when people die."

            "Kimahri too.  It…  Death very painful," he concluded quickly.  "But life more beautiful than death ugly, right?"

            Rikku wore a bittersweet smile.  "It seems like everyone I love so much is taken away from me.  I know I shouldn't be so selfish…  My mother died when I was little…  So many when Home was destroyed.  Tidus…Auron…"

            "Death hurt so much, maybe, because we do not say goodbye."

            "I don't want to say goodbye," whispered Rikku.   "You know, I've never gone into the Farplane, ever.  I know it's not real, that it's just the pyreflies…  But sometimes I've wanted to go and experience it, talk to Sudran…"  Thinking of her mother made her taste salty tears, and she hid her face in the folds of the scratchy Ronso blanket.

            "Kimahri…would you be surprised if I said I loved Tidus and Auron…?" she said, and there was such a long pause afterward that she really quite wondered if she had voiced the words loudly enough.  "Ki—?" she began just as he spoke.

            "Rikku love everyone, right?  Kimahri can see her big heart…  Think it not possible for her not to love so much."

            "That's right," Rikku breathed.  "I love everyone…"

            It left her thinking, feeling like there was just a bit more to explain.  Words waited on her lips that would not leave.  Maybe it was too embarrassing.

            _But…something bad happens to everyone I love._

            "Rikku…" Kimahri began, but he did not say anymore.  He just leaned back and sat, ever vigilant.  He carefully scanned the village.  Rikku wondered if he was not acting as some sort of guard for the village.  Was this his watch or something?

            "Hmm…guess I'll go to bed now, huh?" She stood up and stretched out her arms and yawned.

            "What that?" Kimahri suddenly exclaimed, jumping to his feet.  His golden eyes were fixed on something outside, that looked like a mere dark blotch against the bright white snow at first, but…

            "Kimahri?"

            "Intruders," he growled.  The blotch began to move—no, _blotches_.  Figures.  People.

            "I go," he announced.

            "Me too!" Rikku protested.  "It'll only take me a sec to get ready," she called, scrambling down the stairs, expertly descending four or five at a time.  Her leaps were huge and powerful, but silent.  This was what a trained thief of the Al-Bhed could do.

            She rushed to her room and tugged on her light-colored boots, snapping them up with quick, thin fingers.  She reached into the slit of her nightgown and tied some grenades to her sleek thigh (just in case), then affixed her Godhand Weapon to her right arm.  Finishing the outfit with a great _swoosh_ of the cloak to cover her body, the girl ran to join Kimahri, who had picked up a spear by the door.

            "Rikku okay?" he rumbled at as quiet a volume as he could make his alerted voice.  He looked a bit nervous about taking the scarcely dressed girl with him, but he knew better than to question her skills.  She was fast, quick, and could inflict a mean bite with those shiny white teeth.

            Kimahri pushed open the door, struggling a little against the wind that blew trillions of blinding white flakes in the air.  Rikku thought this odd; hadn't the storm been calm while they had been upstairs?  She did not say anything, and followed Kimahri slowly across the village, which was becoming harder to navigate by the second.

            "Who trespasses?"

            It was a _boom_, an earthquake, the aftermath of a deadly lightning bolt.

            It was Kimahri, who had just spotted what had been blotches.  They were now full figures of people, moving deftly across the field.  The wind slowed, as though it obeyed Kimahri's voice, and four people were left illuminated in the moonlight.  A few stray gusts conjured up a white mist on the ground, but this was easily ignored.

            Rikku immediately recognized a spikey-haired Guado girl, and she bared her teeth with a small growl.  The Al-Bhed rocked back and forth steadily in her battle stance.  Confrontation got the blood moving through her veins, which was welcome in this cold night.  She cocked her head and silently asked for more.

            She was not one to be trifled with, especially not lightly.

            "Ah, simple-minded Ronso," said the other stranger, a roundish man in the robes of an Old Yevon priest.  His voice was sort of slimy and slippery, and there was too much fake sweetness in it to be real.  He squinted his eyes a little, which made his face look even more repulsive, Rikku noted.  He wasn't particularly ugly, and he certainly wasn't handsome.  It was just something in his mannerisms and voice that made him disgusting; something in the way his stringy brown hair came across his face and his square teeth shone.

            "You underestimate Kimahri," was the Ronso's reply while Rikku was busy evaluating their possible foes.

            "Big words!  Almost as big as you," snarled the girl, who stood now so that she was in front of her monk companion.  "However, it would not be difficult to best the likes of you.  Stop interfering."

            "Hey," Rikku replied, lifting her weapon from beneath the deep folds of the dark cloak.  "We'll just see who's the best, eh?"

- - -

Author's Notes:

            I'm sorry I took so long to update this.  I was working on this chapter when I could, in bits and pieces, and then I had to go through and edit the whole dang thing.  I've had a lot of big projects for school and all that fun stuff (translation: aah, save me from my honors classes!)

            I am working on development and insight for all the characters.  I guess everyone is pretty angsty, aren't they?  Eee…  I'll try not to get so carried away with that.  Believe me, there is an underlying plot that will tie everything together, I'm just being lazy about getting around to that.  I am not certain what will happen to Lulu, Tidus, etcetera, so anything could happen!

            I hate to beg for reviews, because everyone does that, but I won't.  If you have a minute, though, I'd love to hear from you about what you think.  Hmm…but just having people read it is flattering enough, I think!  ^_^;;


	7. Panic

- - -

            Yuna awoke at the sounds of pounding footsteps and hurried clanging, hushed voices and slamming doors.  Outside, the air was brewing into a fine storm, which was just a tad unnatural to take place in this protected valley.

            She pulled on a flannel yellow robe over her modest white nightgown, whose gentle folds of soft fabric seemed endless.  She had her hair French-braided on the back of her head, but it was a bit unkempt due to the few hours of sleep the Summoner had so far managed to acquire.  She pulled on her tall Al-Bhed boots, which totally contrasted with her other choices of clothing.

            She sort of felt something in the air.  The inevitable tensions that stirred up before a battle.  After almost a year on the road, battles day in and day out, a person could merely _feel_ to know something of what lay ahead.  At this point, Yuna felt a bit wary; she did not possess the Nirvana (it was tucked away at home between the folds of one of Braska's old robes), or any other staff for that matter.  Besides, she had all but given up magic in the last few years.

            At the door of her room, she stopped and considered.  _What use will I be in a battle?  I can hardly perform any magic without an amplifier, and there is no way in this world I would inflict damage with my hands alone.  And I don't even know who's fighting!_

            She sensed it was someone she cared about.  She had heard loud thumping up and down the stairs, which probably meant a Ronso.  The Ronso were her friends.

            She went.

            When she arrived, she saw Rikku spitting out some speech with much contempt to two people across from her and Kimahri.  But Yuna could not make out the words.  She was cautious of stepping into the line of fire; too many times this had resulted in the injury of one of her comrades.  Without her spells and her summons…she was useless, weak.  The woman resisted the urge to fall to her knees and bathe in self-pity and despair.

            Yuna then noticed that there seemed to be some sort of bubble.  Directly surrounding the foursome a little ways away, the weather was perfectly clear, and the moon shone through brilliantly.  However, as one worked their way from the inside of the circle, the weather grew progressively worse until it was a fierce and blinding blizzard smacking into the houses and other buildings.

            This was strange—quite so.  _There must be some spell at hand here,_ she realized.  She squinted at the people, and they were too busy squabbling with each other to possibly be working on something of this magnitude.  Kimahri, however…  His aura seemed to be twinkling a deep sky blue in the moonlight that favored him.

            _Kimahri is breaking the spell, just a little.  Is it him?  No…  He doesn't know how to cast something like this…  And why would he cast it anyway?  Who benefits from it?_

            Yuna faced the wind bravely as it swirled around and cast miniature daggers upon her face.  She realized she was blood red all over in only a short while, but it was an unavoidable occurrence with her naturally pale skin.

            She laced the top tie of her robe tightly around her neck and began to march around the perimeter of the village.  Her ears burned.  It was far easier to let the wind carry her three steps back then to progress one forward, but she would not relent.  _Who is casting this spell?_ she had to know.  _They are trying to stop the villagers from seeing something…?  Probably.  What could they want?  They—_

            It was too late when Yuna found out what these aggressors sought to gain by visiting the Ronso village and conjuring a storm.  She must have been too sleepy or too blinded by the wall of snow to put the pieces together.

            As she walked, she felt a pair of leather gloves possessed by cold, hard hands firmly grip her own fingers, restraining the woman with her hands clenched behind her back.  Her cries were lost in the breeze.

            Rikku saluted at her shoulder with two short pats, showing off her weapon threateningly.  "We gonna fight or what?"

            The warrior monk spread his feet apart, and a purple shell seemed to grow around him as he crossed his arms above his head and brought them down to cross below his waist.  "Let's get started."

            "A magician?" Rikku asked cockily.  _Damn.  Where's Yuna when we need her?_  The Al-Bhed knew enough white magic to get by, but she had no confidence in it.  Sure, it was fine for mending scrapes and all that, but…

            Kimahri possessed a warrior's honor.  "You fight Kimahri Ronso, of Sacred Mountain Gagazet," he announced formally before bringing up his lance.  

            "And I'm Rikku of the Al-Bhed—_uh-huuuh_!" she added in a sing-songy voice.  Secretly, she was in awe of Kimahri's imposing presence.  He seemed taller than usual, bigger than usual, and, most of all, more powerful than usual.

            "Introductions, then?" the Guado said coolly, pushing on hip to the side and tilting her head in the opposite direction.  "Well, here is one for you."  She whipped her long hands under the decorated coverings of her people to withdraw two thick, identical wooden staffs.  "My name is Paav.  It would do you well to remember that name."

            "Aw, who could forget such a weird thing!" taunted Rikku.  She really hated the Guado…

            "I am Rede, defender of Yevon," spoke the round man.  In his hand was a long, thin metallic object.  It was a gun.

            _Such noble titles…_  Rikku spun around to enchant the air surrounding her and Kimahri.  "Luck-y!" she announced, and felt the power of the gods of gambling enrich the air.  She winked, rushing forward to sock Rede in the stomach.  She was rewarded with a small pouch, presumably of potions.

            Rede cursed, bending over his stomach (the site of recent impact).  He groaned, too, and swore again more fiercely.

            Rikku's shoulder hurt a little from ramming into his magical barrier, but she had overcome many such tricks before and it wouldn't stop her this time.  She tucked her treasure away to be evaluated later.

            Paav looked down at her companion with disgust, then pushed out her arms and slammed the two light brown staffs together in a burst of blue and white magic, which healed him.  "Weakling," she muttered, reaching again into the air.  She pointed one arm at the air and the other at Kimahri, and chanted a silent spell with pursed lips.

            Rikku's emerald eyes darted to Kimahri.  He was standing there, his spine curved slightly, his clawed hands gripping the spear tightly.  It was obvious he was concentrating on something, for he gave off a faint light a few shades above the color of his fur.  Did it have something to do with the strange storm?

            "Lesson one, little girl," Paav announced, her body spinning so that her arm was aimed at Rikku in a flash.  A black bolt of light struck out at the blond woman and she screeched as the combination of flaring pain and pure energy surged throughout her small body.  "Never let down your guard," finished the Guado as the spell finished its damaging shot.

            Kimahri growled and was blocking his friend in a second, but it was a split second too late to help Rikku very much.  He opened his mouth and growled.  He glowed more brilliantly, and the bubble surrounding them grew by at least a few feet.

            Rikku was on her knees, her legs soaking up the moisture of the snow.  How indecent, for them to do that to a fine Al-Bhed lady such as herself!  Rikku quickly cast a cure spell sprung up to her booted feet.

            Kimahri was like a statue in front of her, unmoving.  The anger on his face was unmistakable, even if it was hidden under horns, fur, braids, and all that.  He took flight, charging directly into the Guado and knocking her down.  Then he raised his spear again and jabbed her shoulder with it, imbedding the point into her flesh and tearing it out hastily.

            Rikku gasped.  _He's scarier than me when I'm mad!_

            Paav was on the ground, staining it red.  Her face remained unreadable except for the way she clenched her teeth and how her squinty eyes shook.  Her Guado arm was long enough to reach up and easily cover the wound.

            "What are you doing, idiot!" she demanded of the monk.  "Heal me!"

            Rede seemed rather impressed after the Ronso's show of muscle.  This battle wasn't looking like such a good idea…

            "Damn you!  I'll do it myself."  She rose to her knees as steadily as she could and picked up one of the dropped staffs.  However, with her power diminished by the lack of a second weapon and the development of a serious wound, she only managed to cease the bleeding and get to her feet.

            Rikku was ready to strike again, take Rede down for real now that he had no one to back him up.  But she halted because a great gust ended the swirling storm, expanded the bubble in all directions until all the snow that descended onto the land took the form of a few soft flakes.

            "What?"  Paav jerked her head to the right.

            "I got her, it's okay!  Let's get out of here!" called a new voice from somewhere within the darkness.

            Paav stared daggers at Kimahri, and then let her eyes feast angrily upon Rikku.

            "C'mon," urged Rede.  "You heard him.  Let's go."

            Rikku launched forward.  "Ooh, no you don't!" she declared, but, by the time she had finished her proclamation, the enemies had already spirited away in a bright flash of light, leaving two pairs of sparse footprints leading to the shadows.

            The Al-Bhed followed but found the path ended in a dead end.  "They're gone.  And they have someone…"

            The spiraled green eyes and the glowing yellow ones fixed upon each other.

            "Yuna," they realized together.

            Lulu wore a distinctly worried frown.  It was not just her mouth, either; her thin lines of eyebrows came down into a v shape above disheartened, purple-red eyes.

            They hadn't stopped, these feelings.  There kept being more of them, more frequently at least.

            "Lu?"  He was sitting there across from him in the dim room, working on relighting an old lantern.  It had grown ominously dark outside.

            "Wakka…"  Should she tell him?  Would it only make matters worse?  Well, she would have to tell him eventually.

            "Is it…time?"  Here he was, on top of things, matters…and she hadn't even cared to notice.  She should stop underestimating this man she loved, this man so filled with concern for only her…

            "I…believe so," she admitted.  "I think I have been having contractions for four hours or so."

            "You waited a long time to say, ya?"  He raised his eyebrows and peered at her, not in anger or suspicion, but in jest.  Yes, he was struggling to keep his heart afloat in these turbulent times, maybe tossing her a life preserver…

            "What in the world are we going to do?" she wanted to wail. It came out instead in a clear, concise sentence in her slow, calm voice.  "What now?"

            "I…"  Now, the man was helpless to reply.

            "It will probably be a while, yet," she said.  She had been pacing up until this point, so she slid easily onto a stool and began to sort out a plan.  "The first baby is supposed to take a long time."  _A long, stressful time_, she added in her mind.  "It might be as much as a day—possibly more."

            "Wow, that long?"  His blue eyes opened wide.  "That's a long time!"

            Lulu shook her head slowly.  He certainly did not have the first clue about women, did he?  Well…that was humorous now, but it would definitely hinder later developments. Could she count on _Wakka_ of all people to serve as midwife?

            Her stomach was turning and it wasn't just the baby.  However, the rest of Lulu surprised her by being perfectly calm, much calmer than when the contractions first began hours before.  Perhaps she was growing slowly more and more accustomed to the idea.  The idea of dying, perhaps.

            But there was something more.  A rare piece of optimism was carefully thriving in the very depths of her.  Maybe it was this thing called motherhood, finally taking root inside.  Even if she died, there would be a child, and she wanted more than anything for this child to be healthy, to live a happy life.

            He would never know Sin.  He would never know the kind of sacrifice people used to face every day.  He would never have an inclination to become a Guardian, or, even worse, a Summoner.  He could actually work on _building_ Spira instead of just rebuilding it.  Yes, he could find happiness.

            "Whatcha thinking about, Lu?" wondered Wakka, who had been sitting in contemplation as well.

            "I…  Nothing."

            She just smiled.

            Wakka took the lamp he was holding and placed it in the middle of the table, sending out weak waves of light to wash over the room and everything in it.  The wind and the rain still wreaked havoc just beyond the walls, still attacked the small village of Besaid.   However, this had been going on for so long that it was only background noise.

           He spread his knees apart and leaned down, forearms on his thighs, and considered his hands carefully as he turned them over repeatedly.  "We need a plan, ya?  We should try, get to the temple—"

            "How in the world we get over there, Wakka?" she muttered, interrupting him.

            "Somehow," he growled, his eyes flashing with determination.  He lifted his chin and gazed around the room sadly.  "This house…'s been shaking…too much."

            "You no longer have any confidence that it will endure the storm?"  Her voice was flat, uncaring, but she cared more than anything.

            "We gotta leave soon, Lu." He stood up, presumably looking for essentials they might need to bring.

            "What about the eye of the storm?"

            "We don't even know if the hurricane is passing right over us…  Could be that it's just going along the coast."

            "No one has studied hurricanes for a long time…  We know so very little," she reflected, frustrated.  All the hurricanes that had come were usually confused with Sin's attacks.  No one had really cared about them for a thousand years.

            Sin or storms.  It didn't matter.  Death was everywhere.  Merciless.

            "Wakka, should we really go?  Maybe it's too dangerous to risk."

            "Too dangerous?" he exploded, causing her to freeze.  "What happens if the baby comes while the house is getting torn apart, ya?"  He realized from her shocked expression that he was shouting far above the wind whipping along the walls outside.  "I…I gotta take care of you."

            "And the baby," she added quickly.  _What do I matter?  I might die anyway.  _She corrected, _Probably, I will…  Oh, but…_

            "C'mon, we'll make a run for it," he said, crouching down to dig for a shawl in a pile of clothes.  He found one, black in color (of course), and wrapped it around Lulu's shoulders delicately.

            "Wakka…"  She held her hand nervously near her mouth.  "You know…I can't run."

            "_I'm_ running," he declared.  "I'll carry you."

            Lulu wondered if this was possible, but she preserved his dignity by not speaking.

            "Ready?"

            "Oh, let me get some things…"  _What if this house does fall apart?  We'll lose everything…_ She went to the bed and took up an old, ragged moogle doll from the nearby shelf.  It was a bit dusty, but the thing was precious to her.  It was her very first doll, and, even though right beside it sat her dignified Onion Knight, this was the one she chose.

            _I'll come back for you_, she told the Onion Knight.  It was a falsified but comfortable sort of optimism.

            Wakka pulled on a bright yellow jacket he usually wore during the winter fishing season, when the men went out on their boats to catch the really big prey that came in toward the warmer shores.  The ice-cold pellets of seawater could sting as bad as a hornet, hence the protective yellow jackets.

            He was struggling a little; the coat sure did not fit like it used to.  Was he getting old and plump already?  He would have to get back to blitz if he was ever going to be very presentable.

            Lulu took out her oldest, most favorite book, tucking it and the moogle deep inside her shall.  Both items had seen worse situations than this, so she really didn't mind taking them out into the weather.

            The woman stumbled a bit, surprised at the fierceness of the next contraction.  Funny; she had almost forgotten about the baby for a minute there.  Now it was reminding her of the urgency.

            _All right_, she commanded herself, _this isn't for you, Lulu, so don't be selfish.  Come on, now.  Your baby…_  She shivered even before Wakka began to take down the boards on the door and the malicious rain rocketed inside to soak the very man trying to go out into it.

            _This is it…_  Lulu fought to remain strong as she huddled against the wall near the door.  _And I can't help but feel selfish, now that it's so close.  I don't want to die.  What will happen?  I want to stay with Wakka…!   I don't want to die…  Please, he's all that makes me happy anymore.  I want to be with him…  I want to stay…  _She squinted tightly to protect her deep eyes from both the tears of her heart and those of the sky.

            "Hup!" Wakka groaned, swinging her up from vertical to horizontal in one swift but painful motion.  He had one arm around her shoulders and the other tucked beneath her knees.  Her round belly was squeezed between her thighs and breasts.

            Lulu's arms instinctively shot out to squeeze his neck, and she tucked her face somewhere near his collarbone.  Her hair flapped wildly in all directions as they stepped out into the village.

            Well, what was left.

            It was hard to make out in the dark and through the blinding rain. However, as Wakka waded out through progressively deepening water, he thought he saw through squinted eyes a distinct lack of huts and an abundance of debris.  Still, the great temple was there, the focal point of Besaid.  It was unchanged, even by the onslaught of a hurricane.

            Thank goodness.

            "Wakka…"  She knew it was slowly but steadily getting closer.  Birth…death…everything.  Everything.

            "We'll make it," he said through gritted teeth.  It was not that far, in reality, to the temple.  But it could have been a million miles to just the steps.  One foot forward, then the other.  Then stop, wait for the wind, then again, and yet again.  Climbing the stone stairs was even trickier; they were more than slippery.

            He panicked as a long piece of wood went flying just a few feet above his head.  He ducked, clutching the fragile woman even more tightly to his chest.

            "Ahhh…what was that?" she cried.

            He fought to stand up again.  He was blind, and all he could use for guidance were his feet, half submerged in muddy puddles.  And then, he reached the temple, almost ramming his precious burden into the boarded door.

            "Let us in!" he screamed, but it was futile.  He kicked at the door, but again, it was doubtful anyone inside would hear.  He knees buckled.  It was close to impossible to remain upright against the wind.

            He set Lulu down gently, just as the wind changed directions, shoving both their bodies against the wall.  The wood left deep splinters in his face, releasing small trails of blood that zipped across his powerful features.

            Wakka raised his arms and grabbed at the nailed wood.  He groaned with the effort, his fingers desperately clinging to the rough but slippery surface.  Finally, he was able to rip off one edge of a large board, and it swung out wildly in the wind.

            There was a rush of feet not long afterward, a man of few years armed with a hammer and another piece of wood.

            "Don't close it up!" shouted Wakka through the open space, which was about half a foot by a foot long.  "We gotta get in!"  He reached through the opening and waved to the world that lay beyond.

            "Sir Wakka?" a voice could be heard faintly on the other side.  Soon, an army of men was busy undoing their previous work, and Lulu and Wakka were allowed to climb inside.  Immediately, the door was patched up again.

             Lulu leaned heavily on Wakka as they reached the main room of the temple, which was ablaze with firelight.  About thirty people were crowded around a few separate fires, huddling close together.  And all sixty eyes were soon focused on the late arrivals.

            "Lady Lulu!" more than one mouth cried out.  Here she was, one of the Seven Saviors of the world, stumbling in and sagging under the enormous weight of the life inside her.

            "The baby…" gasped Lulu before she collapsed on the floor.

            "What's happened?" inquired Zysac sleepily.  A more-impatient-than-usual Rikku had just dragged him from his bed.  As he wiped the drowsiness from his green Al-Bhed eyes, the boy was forced to stagger after Rikku in the dark.

            "Yuna!  We're gonna go get her—right away!  That's the way to do this stuff," the woman was muttering to herself.  She threw open the door to her room and began shoving her belongings back into a bag.

            Zysac was left scratching his head.  "So, we're leaving?"

            "Of course!  Now get ready—we're _so_ outta here."

            "But what about the sphere?"

            "We'll worry about that later.  Don't be cheeky."

            "I…"  His shoulders drooped.  _Wasn't that thing important?  Ah…maybe I was wrong._

            "Come _on_," she ordered, grabbing his collar and dragging the boy along.

            He was tripping over his own feet, what with being pulled backwards like that.  He whined quietly.

            "Oh, fine.  Just hurry," she relented, releasing him by uncoiling her tight fist.  He sped along at her heels as she raced around the building.

            "Kimahri!" Rikku cried.  "We're going right away to the ship!  Ki-_mah_-ri!" she called.  She didn't care about waking anyone up.  This, right here, was a full-fledged emergency.

            Only a few moments had passed since an exhausting search of the surrounding area.  Rikku's voice was hoarse, her legs were pulsing with pain, and her skin was ice cold.  But she couldn't stop.  Not until she found Yuna.

            Kimahri thundered down the stairs to reach them near the front door.  "We leave?"

            "Aren't you staying here?" Rikku wondered.

            He shook his head.  There was a rustling of bells.

            "Okay, then!  We're gonna get down to the ship right away…"  She retrieved a small metallic pad from her things and began pushing at two black buttons on it.

            Zysac peered at it.  He had seen the captains of many Al-Bhed ships use these before.  The devices were used to send messages transmitted in simple code to other Al-Bhed, almost always in the case of emergency.  The technology was pretty new—well, newly recovered.  The precise details of how the technology worked boggled him.

            Kimahri announced he was going to get the snowmobiles prepared, and promptly left.  Zysac, with Rikku's nagging, went and gathered up all of his things (which mostly weren't his, but the group's) and what was left of Yuna's belongings, too.

            Rikku sighed.  What a night.  What a horrible night.  She would get her revenge on that stupid Guado girl, and that fatso priest too.  Yes, soon…  Revenge.

            She felt a bit more content.

            "Miss Rikku?"  Zysac had returned, his cloak buttoned all the way up his throat, his goggles affixed tightly around his head.  He swung down to the side and let the heavy pack slip off his shoulders to thud on the floor.

            Rikku looked at him and smiled weakly.  "Hey…sorry to drag you into this."

            He cocked his head, confused.  "Why are you apologizing now?"

            "It's just…well, you're a kid.  I was your age when I went out on the pilgrimage with Yuna…and the others."  She looked out at the crystal clear moon, shining brilliantly within it's frame of silver clouds layered upon a raven black sky.  So beautiful…

            "I was too young, too," she reiterated, voluntarily removing her mind from its calm yet concerned reverie.  "I still am.  But Yuna is still our Summoner, in a way; and we're still Sacred Guardians, you know?  Even I never trusted in Yevon and the teachings…I _did_ want to protect Yunie.  And now, Kimahri and I are the only Guardians around to help."

            Zysac stood in contemplative silence.

            "_Damn_," whispered Rikku, punching the wall.  "Where could you have gone?"  _Yunie, where are you?_

            Somewhere, somewhere painfully close but terribly far away, Yuna awoke.

- - -

Author's Notes (whee):

            Hey, thanks for staying tuned, boys and girls!  I had most of this chapter done several days ago, but I needed to finish up the last bit.  I have the next chapter all planned out.  It's gonna be mainly Lulu/Wakka stuff.  Oh, please remember to grab your hankies for that one.  ;.;  I almost don't want to write it…

            But find out what happened to Yuna soon too!  Thanks!  Please review, since you've already read!


	8. Perfect World

- - -

Reflected in the water, I see the moon trembling and shaking

The light over my head is simply looking at that

Hurt and then weakened though it's just a wounded beast

Should I live? Should I run? Everything's up to me

The sky's far off and endless but

Only the light isn't valued

I will always watch over you

This is called love "Perfect World"

When you overcome difficult times you become dazzling

What I unconsciously chose became your confidence

Sleeping at the bottom of the ocean a person is like a pearl

Clean it, polish it, the brilliancy deepens

The sky's a far off, cleared up world

Snow melts becoming liquid

The strength to stand up again

Is always inside of you

Embrace someone, embrace them, just lifting them into your arms

Probably, certainly not just kindness

The strength to stand up again is always inside of you

This is called love  "Perfect World"

"Perfect World" by Aoki Kumiko.  Translation by Mina-P (Minako@senshigakuen.com)

- - -

            She was in the very depths of the temple:  the Chamber of the Fayth.  Here, Valefor had once slept inside a crystal coffin, awaiting the prayers of a strong Summoner.  Now, Lulu lay here, awaiting the coming of a new life.

            Where once a soul had sacrificed its life, one would be born.

            Lulu stirred.

            She was stretched across a makeshift mattress, covered in deep, smooth fabric that absorbed the warmth from her fever.  She was alone, at least for the moment, left to sort out events for herself.

            She was mostly disrobed.  Her soaking wet and torn clothes were hung awkwardly over a fire that blazed unevenly a few feet beyond her reach.  She reached up to inspect her hands in the light; they seemed scratched, perhaps from the hazardous journey from the hut to here.

            The world blurred.

            She shut her eyes.  _I can see, I can see, _she protested.  There wasn't anything wrong with her.  Cautiously, she blinked open her eyes again.  The world was dim but clear.  Thank goodness.

            Footsteps.

            She jerked her head, and her neck protested with flaming pain.  How long had she been lying here unconscious?

            "Hey, you awake?"  Wakka almost let the bucket of steaming water he was carrying crash to the floor.  He hastily set it down.

            "Yes…" she whispered faintly, wincing.

            "You been out a long time now," he informed her, kneeling.  He took up a cloth and cleaned her face.  "You okay?"

            "Yes," she repeated, afraid to nod.  "How long?"

            "Maybe an hour.  They cleaned you up good.  Some of the ladies are gonna help you with the baby, 'kay?"

            And now she could really smile, truly beam with happiness.  The times she had done this since childhood could probably be counted using one hand.

            Wakka ran his finger through her hair.  Her forehead was smooth and pleasantly warm against his death-cold fingers.  He knew that she had a fever.  When he had attended her before, she had been mumbling incoherently and acting out some dream.  But he didn't mention it now.  He didn't dare do anything to disturb the look of delight on her face.

            Lulu ran her eyes of Wakka.  He was handsome, now.  He had been all cleaned up and had a fresh set of clothes on his back.  His chin was freshly shaven, his hair again clean.  

            Wakka shifted nervously.  What was she thinking about so intently?

            Lulu suddenly began to hum softly.  It was hard not to do in this place, although it was starved for any sound save the fire and the pair's syncopated breathing.

            The Hymn.

            "Strange…why did they take me here, Wakka?"

            "The safest place in the temple.  Farthest in, ya?"

            "The safest place, and yet…"  She smirked.  "Do you remember, Wakka?  When we first came to this place?"

            "Of course!"  He was almost offended.

            "I was a fool back then," she reflected, a slight chuckle edging her words.  "I was so cold, and condescending.  I was absorbed in myself and my own regrets, and I hated everything."

            "You…"  But he didn't finish.

            "And I haven't changed that much, have I?  I always just dwell on myself, I…"  She searched his face desperately.  "I'm sorry, Wakka.  I could never show you how strongly I felt for you.  How much I loved you."

            "Don't talk like that," he scolded, gazing away from her deeply flushed cheeks.  "You can show me later, right?"

            "Wakka, go get a priest."

            "What?  What for?"

            "Get one.  Please.  Old or New Yevon, it doesn't matter.  Just send him here."

            He obeyed.  In a little while, the old man Yuna and Wakka had spoken with days ago appeared, a confused look on his wrinkled face.  "Lady Lulu?" he asked in the fluctuating dimness.

            "I have a favor, sir," she said, propping herself up on her elbows.  "You were a priest, weren't you?"

            "For most of my life, yes…but I have abandoned Old Yevon," he almost scowled.  All his life he had been betrayed by what he had most faith in.  The world had fallen apart two years ago…

            "Will you marry me and Wakka?" she asked.

           "Marry?  I haven't married anyone in ten years, Lady," he said.

            "Please."

            "Well…"  He could not be disrespectful to her.  She was a Savior.

            "It won't be anything extravagant."  Married?  She had never dared to imagine it.  She…  What exactly was she doing?

            "Married, ya crazy?  The baby's almost here!"  Wakka apparently had been eavesdropping.  He burst in.

            "Just say it—just marry us," she said, arranging the plain white tunic over her flushed body and straightening her black hair with fragile fingers.  She did not look at Wakka.

            "If she wants it," Wakka relented, facing the former priest.  "Better give it to her, ya?  Can't refuse a lady…"  He sighed.  "Just make it quick."  He turned to his lover.  "Lu, we don't even have a ring, or flowers, or nothing."

            She lifted the fish necklace from around her neck and gestured it at him.  "Here."

            He took it cautiously.  The metal was hot from being on her skin.  He shivered, coiling the metal chain around thick digits until they turned purple.

            "I can't stand," she confessed.  "Sit with me, Wakka."

            The orange-haired man nodded and came down to sit where she made space.  He looped his muscular arm around her back to support her.

            The priest looked worried.  He walked slowly to the edge of the bed, in front of them.  A marriage?  Here, in this forsaken place—at this awful time?

            Lulu combed some of her hair in front of her face.  It made an ominously dark veil.  She ignored her body further progressing into labor.

            The priest struggled from where to start.  But then, he did it the old way, the way he had done during Calms, times of celebration.  People were quick to be happy and rejoice then—when would they next get the chance?

            He began to chant in old Spiran, and then he did the traditional bow.  Arms up, around, head down.  Pause.  Sigh.

            Begin.

            "Praise be to Yevon.  Peace is here long enough for some happiness, no matter how fleeting.  Love is ever present in this world.  Evil cannot harm the pure bond of two people."

            Another slow bow.  He really prayed this time.

            "Let us all find happiness as great as that which these two people share.  Let love show it's eternal beauty, let grace allow them a prosperous and long life…together."

            He clasped his hands and shook them high in the air.  In an ordinary situation, he would have had a silver bell between his palms, and it would have let out a resonating song for all to hear.

            "Take your wife," he finished finally.  "Take her and cherish her."

            The man on the bed took the necklace and unraveled it, clasping it delicately around the woman's neck.  Wakka then placed both hands on Lulu's face and pulled the hair away to see her eyes sparkle back at him.  He held her and kissed her, in a way more earnestly and lovingly than he ever had before.

            The priest exited, hurrying a little, despite his age and weakness.  He had only thought the last words and not said them.

            Praise be to Yevon.

            Lulu fought the small tears that clung to the corners of her eyes.  Finally, she was all his.  It was a bit late, yes, but not too late.  There was always time for a beginning, even in the face of an end.

            Wakka let her slide gently onto the pillow.  "I'll see if there's any flowers out there.  I want you to have flowers."

            "Wakka, I…"  She reached out for his retreating form, but jerked her hand back down when he finally stopped and turned around.  _I want you to stay, but…  _"Would you please get the women, Wakka?  I think I'm ready."

            He nodded and jogged off.  _She'll be okay, now.  There's people to help.  They'll help her, I know it…_

            _But you were supposed to be the one protecting her._

            Wakka shook off this doubt.  There was no time for that foolishness.  If he only _believed_…just a little more, and it would work out.  It would, right?

            She screamed.

            "Lady Lulu!" the youngest attendant gasped.

            There were three women in all:  one grandmother, one mother, and a young daughter about fourteen.  The mother and grandmother had served as midwifes a dozen times, but the daughter was less experienced.

            "A little pain is natural," the gray-haired grandmother soothed.  She was a round woman, with just enough wrinkles on her otherwise smooth face to make her look sweet and gentle.  Her hands, though, showed no signs of age.  They were nice and strong as she ran them along Lulu's belly.

            "It hurts more than a little…" Lulu gasped through gritted teeth.  She was almost all red now, sweat pouring down her face.  It was coming, coming…

            The mother, whose head was covered with soft brown hair sprinkled with only a little gray, wiped Lulu's face with a soaked cloth.

            The old woman's eyes narrowed with concern.  She felt something strange in Lulu…  Had the baby formed the wrong way?  Could it even get out?

            Lulu panted.  Her water had broken a long time ago—hours, it seemed.  But nothing was happening.  The baby wasn't getting out, even though her stomach contracted tightly more and more.  She wanted to screech so the whole world could hear, but her voice was already hoarse.

            "Where's the baby?" the girl wondered faintly from the sidelines.  Her mother had never told her about times like this.  She switched her weight back and forth, anxious.

            "Lulu…oh, Lady Lulu," the grandmother whispered.  "Your baby might not come.  Forgive me, Lady.  I think its path is blocked…"

            "What are you saying?" she screeched in reply.  All control had left her when the pain had climaxed an hour ago.  Her emotions were more violent than she ever remembered them being before.  "No, save my baby.  It's all there is anymore…"

            _We could lose them both_, thought the daughter.  "What should I do?" she asked her parent.

            "You—"

            Her words were interrupted by a cry from the black mage.  _I…It's time.  This is…_

            "Let me in!" shouted Wakka from behind the closed door.  He pounded his fists furiously, harder and harder.  "Lu!"

            "Wa…Wa…" breathed Lulu as she convulsed, her breathing strained.

            He entered.

            "Lu—!"

            He came upon her in a rush, clutching at her desperately.  "Lu, come on, what's wrong?"

            "Wakka, the baby won't come," she sobbed before a restrained growl escaped her closed mouth.  "Oh, it hurts, it hurts…"  She was blind, suddenly.  Disoriented.  Confused, panicked, upset.  "Wakka, please…"

            Wakka bent down and kissed her forehead.  He took her hand in both of his and squeezed it.  "Everything'll be okay."

            The rest of the world simply melted away.

            It was just the two lovers, the newly married husband and wife.  Around them was pure silver light like that of the moon.  Just the two of them, suspended in a void of beautiful nothingness.  No pain or fear.  Only love.

            "Lu…"

            "Wakka…"

            The world returned to normal, but neither noticed.  The three other women were rushing around, but Wakka could not hear their cries and shouts, or see them scurrying about.  He could only see and hear Lulu.  He massaged her hand lightly.

            "Wakka, let them save my baby," she murmured.

            "What about you?"

            "It will be fine.  You'll see, Wakka."

            "Not without you!" he cried in a hushed but panicked tone.  "I could never live without you, Lu.  What'd I do?  Who'd tell me to talk good?  Who'd take care of me, Lu?"

            "Fool," she whispered.  Her eyelids fluttered to a soft but final close.  A gentle but satisfied smirk was left on her lips.

            Wakka touched her forehead.  She was cold.  Her skin was white.

            He wept.

            Wakka was hurried out of the room.  They were going to…well, what they were going to do…

            He didn't want to think about it.

            "Flowers, flowers," he mumbled.  He came into the main room of the temple to receive many sympathetic looks from his fellow villagers.  He turned away from them and began to search around.

            The hum of conversation gradually returned to a cautious but normal level.

            "Hey, the storm's settling down," someone said from near the door, unaware of the present circumstances.

            "I don't want to look," a young woman said, holding her toddler in her arms.  "Everything's destroyed!"

            "It's still raining hard, but the wind's about done," another man reported from his post.

            Wakka picked up his jacket from near one of the fires.  It was warm and dry.  He fastened it around his body and headed for the exit.

            "Where are you going?" wondered the men.

            "Flowers.  I want flowers," he said, somewhat in a trance.  He climbed out.

            They were right about the rain; it was still coming down hard.  However, it was not going horizontal like it had done before.  The wind had apparently given up, its work complete.

            The village lay in shambles.  Where there was once a growing community, there was now left only the evidence of destruction.  Pieces of huts were scattered in a haphazard fashion across the entire island.

            Ironic.

            Besaid had been lucky enough not to receive such punishment from Sin.  But now that Sin was gone, nature took over to destroy a helpless village.

            Ironic.

            Lulu, who had survived three pilgrimages, including an ultimate showdown with Yunalesca, Sin, and Yu Yevon…  She was killed by the very thing that made her happiest.

            Ironic.

            Wakka, using jerky movements, threw a tree trunk up with one burst of adrenaline and retrieved a single small, white flower, soaked but beautiful and intact.  Every house had been torn to pieces, but this sole flower survived.

            Ironic.

            "Yikes, I don't want to drive it," Rikku said nervously, biting at her very pink lower lip.

            "Why?" Kimahri wondered simply, boarding the other snowmobile.  "Hurry."

            Rikku's joints were sore and she was worried she might smash the thing, with herself and Zysac riding it, into a cliff or something.  With her fatigue she wasn't confident, but she pretended it was just some sudden fear of snowmobiles.

            "I'll do it," the Al-Bhed boy said, taking the controls at the front.  "It's not very different from the ones in the desert, right?"

            "I…guess…"  Rikku climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his body, pulling her long sleeves over her hands to make up for not bothering with gloves.

            "We go," the Ronso announced.

            "Roger!"

            "Roger…" mimicked Zysac, starting up the motor.

            They sped down the hill.

            "Do you wish to see her?" gulped the oldest woman who had been with Lulu.

            Wakka shrugged, weakly.  The flower stems were wet, squeezed tightly in his sweaty palms.  "I…I dunno."

            He was shaking.

            The oldest woman took Wakka's arm with one hand and put the other on his shoulder.  She guided him gently through the Cloister of Trials, where the trials were distinctly missing.

            They reached the door to the Chamber.  It was open.

            "Go to her.  Her soul, well…you know.  It will leave us soon."  She took her leave hurriedly.

            He shook.  His feet would hardly move but a few steps.

            He gripped the flowers even more tightly and went inside, becoming frozen at the sight of her.

            Lulu lay there peacefully.  Her hair was perfectly arranged, pulled back over the bed's top edge and tied with a silvery ribbon near the end of the long, raven strands.  Her body was straight and neat, perfectly settled into the comfort of the mattress.  She was covered delicately with a single cream blanket.  Her pale hands were folded over her flat stomach.  The fish necklace sparkled over her heart.

            Around her quietly blazed a dozen sweet-smelling candles in a loose oval.  The smooth light ran over her body in small waves.  It was akin to the sunlight dancing across a calm ocean.

            The man took one slow but large step forward to stand next to her.  He knelt at her side, looking straight into her face.

            Gently, gently he reached out and put his hand over her clasped ones.  The white flower slid easily into her cold grasp.

            Wakka blinked through big, salty tears.  "Lu…"

            She did not move at all.

            He collapsed in on himself, choking on sadness as he soaked his hands with shameless sobs.  He had never felt so devastated in all his life, never cried like this.  His body shook and rumbled as all his regrets and guilts and worries flooded out in loud grunts of pain.

            "I love you," he spoke, when he at last could sometime later.

            He remembered, suddenly, how she had hummed before.

            The Hymn.  His lips opened instinctively.  "_I e yu i…No bo me no…_"

            Gulp.

            "_Re n mi ne…  Yo ju yo go.  Ha se te ka na e…  Ku ta ma e_."

            He finished singing. 

            Lulu's smile seemed to grow larger, somehow, in the presence of his deep and powerful voice.  Her whole body began to shine with a rainbow of colors, illuminating the dark room with the very light of her.

            "No—!" he grabbed onto her cold body.

            It was too late.

            Her image flickered, her body melting away.  In a moment her angel-like body disappeared into a collection of radiant bursts of light, the pieces of her soul floating away and rising towards an unseen sky.

The sky's far off and endless but

Only the light isn't valued

I will always watch over you

This is called love "Perfect World"

- - -


	9. Separation

- - -

            Time didn't seem to pass, not for him.  The rest of the world, presumably outside somewhere, continued its relentless progress through the minutes and hours.

            Somewhere outside, unseen.  Unimportant.

            He sat with his head on his knees and his hands squeezing his feet.  He wasn't a man with thoughts; he was, instead, just a ball of the most unpleasant of emotions.

            Sadness.

            Pain.

            Guilt.

            Regret.

            Without his meddling, she might be here somehow.  She would scold him, telling him to do his share of the work for the villagers.  "Lazy," she might have muttered.  "Get up and _do_ something—how can you just sit there?"

            "I'm sorry," he spoke aloud.  He waited for a reply—even a snappy, condescending remark would do right now.

            There was no answer.  There never would be.  He was about to breathe out again when there were footsteps approaching his huddled form.

            "Wakka."  It was the old woman.

            "Go away," he sniveled, free of shame.

            "Sir Wakka, there's somebody to meet you."  This time the girl spoke.

            "Not now."

            "I think they need it right now—and you do too!"

            They?  Who were they?

            The man stood, looked over his shoulder.

            Time stopped.

            In the women's arms were cradled two soft bundles.  Out of each a small, pink face squinted out at the world, a little afraid but wonderfully curious.

            "They…"  _Beautiful_, he thought, _so beautiful._

            "You have a son and a daughter," announced the grandmother.  The moment was bittersweet, but she was at least able to smile.

            Her granddaughter beamed.  "They were holding hands when they were born!  Isn't that wonderful?"

-

            Yuna awoke with a chill racing up and down her spine.

            _It feels as though…something has left the world.  I can feel it, I…  _She clasped her hands together tightly.  _Please—oh please, _do_— let everyone be all right._

-

            "Hey, what's the matter?" the boy spoke in response.

            "Oh, sorry, Zysac," Rikku replied, realizing she had jumped and squeezed him extra tightly.  "I just got this horrible feeling, all of a sudden.  Like someone I was connected to…"  _…is gone._  She buried her face into his back.  _Yuna?  Did they do something to her?_  "Let's hurry, 'kay?"

            Zysac started up the vehicle again and maneuvered his way to catch up with Kimahri.  _Miss Rikku's worrying about something.  What can I say?  Oh, I'll probably just make it worse, I always do…_

            _I'm scared_, Rikku thought.  _It feels like I'm losing everything at once.  What kind of Calm is this, anyway?  When we saved Yuna, everything was supposed to be fine…!  You lied to me, Tidus, you lied.  And now you aren't here to help me protect her anymore…  Tidus, you jerk._

            No, it wasn't right to think ill of a dead person.  With some guilt, she managed to shrug it off, at least outwardly.  Somehow, she did.  This was her strength.  "Hey, you're not thinking bad stuff about yourself again, are you?"

            "How did you know?"

            She unraveled one arm from his side and hit him playfully.  "I _told_ you to stop doing that."

            Zysac blushed to himself and drove on into the white flurries.

-

            There were light, crisp notes weaving around her sleeping head.  She blinked her eyes open—one emerald, one sapphire—and stretched pale ears out to distinguish the sounds of reality from those of her dreams.

            It was late evening, or, at least, the very end of daylight; the sun was all but gone, greedily kidnapping the day's warmth and brilliance to sleep in the depths of the turquoise sea.

            Her other senses awoke, one by one.  She felt gritty sand imbedded in her cheek, smelled some sort of fish broiling, tasted salty air in her mouth.  The image of a beach soon focused in her eyes, and she promptly sat up.

            Beside her, sitting on a log, was a man she did not remember seeing.  He seemed very dark to her, with deeply tanned skin, hair and clothes of midnight, and eyes intensely focused on the crackling fire.  In his mouth was a thin silver pipe, on which he performed a haunting tone with quick fingers.

            Yuna rubbed hard with the palms of her hands to dislodge the sand stuck to her face.  She felt a bit grimy all over.  No wonder; she was still wearing her nightclothes from last night—was it last night?  She did not know how much time had passed since her abduction.  For that matter, where were her abductors?

            "Excuse me," she said politely to the musician.  He did not reply, so she tried again.  "Excuse me, sir?"

            Was he deaf?  No, that would not make much sense.  Yuna just studied him, wondering what sort of person he was.  Would he soon jerk out his reverie and become violent?  There were people like that.

            The song apparently finished, and the man tucked away the pipe in an inner pocket of his dark clothing.  Now, he turned his head, and spoke with a very deep voice.  "What?" was all he uttered.

           A small, alarming chill ran along her spine.  She managed to keep herself from visibly shaking.  "I am sorry to bother you, but I think I need to know where I am."  Perhaps her body was still, but her voice trembled.  Heavens.

            "I am not so sure."

            Not so sure she needed to know, or not so sure where they were?  Yuna didn't have a chance to follow up, for, just then, the red-haired Guado woman and her lackey, the priest, came bursting through the lines of trees with logs filling their arms.

            "Ach, you finally woke up," said the Guado woman.

            "What are you doing with me?"  Yuna rose to her feet.  She had to be strong and hold her ground…  She couldn't just be obedient anymore.

            "Hold your tongue in front of those who have power over you, _Lady_," she mocked in return.

            "You have none.  I _do _have a right to know what you want with me."  She licked her lips.  "I don't even know who you are."

            "I am Paav, and this bumbling Old priest is Rede.  And he," she gestured, grimacing slightly, at the flute player, "is just a shadow for all I care.  A mercenary, if you like."

            The 'shadow' did not respond.  Maybe he was not even paying attention.

            "Then who I am to you?" the Summoner asked.

            "You…"  She exhaled deeply through her teeth, flexing her oversized, drooping Guado hands.  "You are the bane of the Guado.  You destroyed our leader and thus brought chaos and torment.  Then you and your cohorts _dare_ to assist the damned Al-Bhed."  She had to stop for another breath.  Her skin was approaching the color of her tangled hair as she listed off Yuna's list of crimes.  "And, as a last blow, you destroy the only holding fiber of this world, Yevon—you murder a god, just because you can.  You destroy your own aeons—all aeons…  You ended an era of pure worship and unity—"

            "What about Sin?" cried Yuna.  "You would rather have people join a chain of suicide to defeat it over and over—you would have more defenseless people live in fear and suffering?"

            "What about the world today?  At least Sin gave us a common cause—except for those heathen Al-Bhed—"

            "The Al-Bhed are good people!"

            "You and your friends represented every group, didn't they?  You had plenty of humans, even an old veteran—you had Ronso and Al-Bhed, mages and fighters and some blitzers—even someone who never existed—but did you have one Guado along?  How did you represent _our_ interests?"

            "We—"

            "You.  You think you were fair—but you were just serving your own purposes.  Where is all this _eternal happiness _that was promised to us?  Where is the new, more beautiful life we were supposed to get?"

            "I—"

            "You nothing, girl!"  Paav dropped her firewood to the ground and stomped off into the woods.

            "Paav…" muttered Rede, and he followed after her, like a loyal puppy, through the throng of trees and underbrush.

            Yuna was again left with the dark flute player, as well as her own doubts and thoughts.  She sighed, and set about collecting back the wood that had been carelessly dropped.  After there were a few more pieces on the fire, and the rest piled up neatly a few feet away, she looked around for what else she could do.

            There was the cooking food, so she tended to it, turning the smoldering fish over on their sticks.  There was also a pot of some sort of broth, which the woman stirred absentmindedly.

            She sighed to herself.  "I only want to know where I am…"  It was too much for a prisoner, maybe.  Was she a prisoner?  She couldn't say at this point.  Would they care if she just wandered off down the beach?  Or would that man jump to action and throw a knife in her back as she tried?

            No, she couldn't let something like that happen.  She had to keep going and find Tidus.

            Tidus.

            Yuna closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, praying.  _Tidus…I'd almost forgotten.  What a mess I'm in now—I don't even know what they want me for.  Am I to be a bargaining chip, or is this just some kind of revenge for Miss Paav?  I fear I cannot understand them._

            She recalled the feeling of fear she'd felt in the middle of the night, and it began to worry her again.  _I want my friends beside me again.  Is everyone all right?  Rikku and Kimahri are probably looking for me.  Lulu and Wakka are safe at Besaid.  I wonder how Lulu is?  Has she had her baby yet?_

            Yuna said a quick prayer for the new baby, bowing ceremoniously to no god at all.

            "You who destroyed religion, you still bow?  What could bring the slayer of Yevon to bow?"  The man had spoken again, and Yuna had jumped, hearing his eerie voice behind her.

            Yuna chose to be cool, smoothing over her tense feelings with an awkward smile.  "I suppose," she said, her hands folded in front of her, "it is a ingrained habit.  Besides, I still have many things to pray for."

            Her green eye, as well as its blue partner, focused on him curiously.  "You…sir, you are not a Guado.  Does that mean more people than they are angry with me?"

            He did not smile, but the deadpan expression on his face never seemed to change.  So perhaps he was smiling, because humor fringed his words.  "I am not a Yevonite, and I never was.  My reasons for being here are my own."

            "You hold something else against me?"

            "No.  Money."

            Yuna did crack a smile, because she was warm like that, and, maybe, because she felt a bit safer if he could talk to her, and not just stare.  That was unnerving.  But talking, talking was good.  Talking lead to discussion, the sharing of ideas, the understanding of others.  And it lead to the foundation of all good politics:  compromise.

            Yes, talking.

            Might he talk a little more?

            It had been a long time since the feeling had passed.  The sudden burst of panic, the worrying that followed.  It was over now, but it still hung back in her mind.  She was thankful, but still bothered.

            They had finally made it back to the ship, and she and Kimahri had discussed at length their plans.  He was on his way back to the mountain, along with a few of the crewmen, to investigate the Tidus sphere.

            "When we find Yuna," Rikku had said, "she'll be mad if we haven't made any progress, don't you think?"  Optimism was the key now.

            So, Kimahri was gone, and Rikku had herself, Zysac, and a dozen crew to look after, as well as Yuna to look for.  Maybe it was good practice.  There were, after all, plans in order for her to take over charge of the Al-Bhed when Cid retired.

            Speaking of Cid, he apparently was sending along a belated birthday present for his little sprite of a daughter.

            And, presently, Rikku was grumbling about it on the tiny bridge of her ship.

            "A present?  What's he talking about—waiting here?  We have to find Yuna.  I don't know what he is thinking…"

            She had a few spectators, but they watched on in anxious silence.  Never knew they could sometimes be among the rowdiest fans at a blitzball tournament.  Right now, they just seemed scared.

            "Honestly, _Vydran_!"

            Zysac came in, caring some reports from another part of the ship.  He took a second to step back as Rikku's high-pitched shouts came roaring his way.

            Yikes.

            Rikku underwent a completely mood transformation as her eyes focused on him, flowing smoothly from pissed to eager in a mere second.  "Are those the maps?"

            She ripped them from his fingers and began studying them intently.  Soon she plopped down right in the middle of the metal floor and began scratching notes in her childish handwriting, with a lot of frantic lines.

            "Hey, I think it's here!" called someone from on the deck.

            "Miss Rikku, you'd better come see this!"

            "Way better than I thought!"

            Rikku just glared stonily at the stairwell.  "What are you fussing about?  I'm busy."

            "Come on," Zysac pleaded.  He knew what was coming.  He'd heard some of the other crew whisper about it earlier that afternoon.

            "_Ruhacdmo_," muttered the blond leader, and she clumsily jumped to her feet and went up to see what all the yelling was about.

            First her ears were met with a consistent _whirring_ sound, and, as her head came out into the air, there was strong wind against her face.  Her eyes bulged.

            It was an airship.

            It was a small, shining, yellow and orange airship, with two large propellers in the back, and small engines nestled below the main body.  It must have been about a fourth the size of her father's—which was still a fair size.

            Speaking of her _vydran_, he was now getting out on the shore, grinning at her as the dying sun shone off his balding head.

            "You like it?" he called over in his burly voice.  "Happy birthday!"

            Rikku grinned, and rushed forward to hug him.

- - -

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for how long this took to get up.  I had a little bout with writer's block for this story, and, once I got going again, I had no time—!  (Terrible, no?)  The free time I did have I spent playing Kingdom Hearts.  You should all go out and buy it.  I can't wait for the sequel~~

Thank you all _so much_ for the reviews.  They seriously mean a lot to me.  I kept getting email alerts, and I just felt guilty I didn't have enough to put up!  But this weekend I think I'll try to hammer myself out another chapter, or at least get going on one.

Oh, I would really like to apologize for Lulu.  But it just had to be done.  She was one of my favorite characters, too…  I just had built it up and foreshadowed too much to back out…  That would have been pretty weak…

Hmm…  Me shut up now.  Jaa ne!


	10. Phoenix

- - -

            "Are we in the right place?"

            "This sure doesn't look like it…"

            "What the hell _happened_?"

            Rikku waltzed onto her new bridge, wearing a crisp red-orange dress, and with her hair pulled up into a professional bun with two strands coming down in front of her ears.  This was supposed to be her shining moment, approaching Besaid in her brand-spanking new airship.  She had come to officially ask Lulu and Wakka for their help.

            This was supposed to be her shining moment.

            It wasn't.

            "What's this?  What are you talking about?" demanded Rikku, approaching the main viewing screen.

            She gasped.

            "This _is_ the Isle of Besaid, as far as I can tell.  But…something has happened…" reported the pilot.  Everyone reacted.

            "A storm?"

            "Hurricane?"

            "Sin?"

            There was a rise of emotions among all the bridge crew, people scrambling to get themselves a look.  Indeed, this sort of destruction was characteristic of one of Sin's attacks.  It couldn't be…

            "We're landing immediately!  To your stations!" roared the female captain.  The chattering men and women stopped, and sat down at their respective consoles.  Actually, her crew was, for the most part, composed of teenagers—no one far from her own age.  The chief engineer, in fact, was just fourteen, even if she was a genius.

            Altogether, Rikku now was in command of about thirty-five, coming from the skeleton crew Cid has supplied for her and those who had joined from her previous mission (a few had stayed behind to take the seafaring vessel back to Home).

            "Brace for landing!" advised the pilot.  They were all still getting the basic controls down.

            Rikku knelt and grabbed one of the rails before the main helm station, her green eyes still taking in the sights down below.  Where was the village?  Was it somewhere in that huge area of flattened trees, dammed rivers, and piles of debris that used to an island?

            Besaid.  A wasteland.

            Rikku wondered why things always had to get so complicated.

-

            Wakka dragged himself outside.  It was the middle of the day, and the other villagers had been outside since sunrise.  They were sorting through what remained of home—what a loosely applied term that was now—and trying to think of a way to put everything back together.

            Wakka had not come out before because he had nothing to look for.  His past had died with Lu, and now he was awkwardly confronted with the future.  Two babies, so young and helpless, never to know their mother…to be born from her very corpse.

            He felt ill.

            The cool breeze felt good against his flushed skin, and his stomach quieted down a little bit.  He hadn't eaten for days, only drinking water when he was reminded to.  At least there were enough new mothers to take care of food for the children.  They could at least have a mother's milk.  Just not their own.

            Searching through piles of broken memories had not brought him outside, but rumors of an airship landing did.  The children were in the middle of a pleasant meal, so he left them behind in the temple.

            "Dear Ye…"  He stopped himself.  _Yevon_.  It was ingrained in the very fiber of his being.  And, although he hated Yevon more than ever, Wakka couldn't shake the habit—crying out the name when he was in distress, pleading for some sort of mercy from above.

            _I'm still a fool, ya?  Lu?_ he thought.  No response, of course.  Finally, his eyes settled in on a bright ship just beyond some of the taller surviving trees.  Near where the dock was—well, used to be.  He headed towards it at a moderate pace, not hurrying—he didn't care enough about anything to hurry.

            He made it to the ship, where there was a relatively clean area of dirt path.  Two figures approached him.  He recognized immediately the young lady in the long, sleeveless orange dress as his old friend, and paid no heed to the other individual.

            "Wakka!  Wakka!"  Rikku ran, her leather boots slipping a little in the mud.  Her blond companion walked more cautiously behind her, picking his footing much more carefully.

            "Rikku."

            His face was smeared with dirt, and his clothes looked liked they were stuck to him.  His hair was newly short, but extremely tangled and twisted.  He had scars on the exposed tan skin of his body.  His features lacked emotion.

            "Wakka, what happened?"

            "Hurricane."  Another one word reply.

            Something terrible had happened, but her throat was choking up.  She could not ask.  She mouthed the name instead.  "Lulu…"

            He just shook his head.

            "She…"  _No, wait_, Rikku told herself.  If she didn't ask, he wouldn't answer.  If she didn't ask, she wouldn't have to know.

            There was silence between them for a long time.  A pregnant pause.  The wind played around them wistfully, making the leaves dance on the beaten trees.  In the distance, the other people of the island were calling to each other, working together to move large trees and whatnot.

            Rikku gulped.  Wakka probably wasn't ready to say anything anyway.  "Hey, let's go into the village.  Maybe we can help with the…reconstruction."

            His large head bowed slightly, and he turned around and began pacing back toward the village.  The two Al-Bhed pursued, cautious.

            They came to the temple and spoke with the people there.  Most of them looked up wearily, defeated by nature and heartache.  Wakka left his companions here, and journeyed deeper into the building.

            "Oh, Lady Rikku," bowed a kindly woman who seemed to have many years of living under her belt.

            Rikku bowed to her elder, and said, "I am sorry about what has happened here.  My ship and I are at your service.  If we don't have all you need, I will radio New Home and get more."

            "Delightful!"  The woman clapped her hands together.  She seemed just ready to delve into a long list of needs when the high-pitched wails of a baby arose on the other side of the giant room.  "Oh, do excuse me…those are our new arrivals."  The woman said it as though she should be smiling, but instead a grimace emerged from her wrinkles.

            "Oh…"  Rikku was confused, but she felt a tinge of intuition.  "Zysac," she said, "You go around the village and ask everyone what they need—in terms of supplies, you know?  Then go back to the ship and get whatever we can spare—oh, and radio Home.  _Vydran_ should help."  She was already walking backwards after the old woman.

            Zysac nodded slowly.

            Rikku came with the woman to a crude bed made of straw and blankets.  There, on it, were two bright-faced babies, all aglow with new life.  Around them fussed a young woman with a toddler attached to her leg, crying out insistently for something.

            The old woman said, "Lady Rikku.  These are…"

            "Lulu's?" guessed Rikku.

            "Yes…"

            "And Wakka's…"

            "Why, of course…"

            "Lulu is…?"

            Rikku looked up when the woman didn't say anything.  "She's gone, isn't she?"

            The old woman cast her eyes downward, not even seeing the two children as her focus made way for the cold stone floor.  "…gone…"

            Rikku fought back her emotions.  Those would just have to wait.  She knelt to the ground and offered her hand outward.  Her index finger was snatched into the eager grasp of the baby on the left (later this turned out to be the boy).

            "Hello there," cooed the Al-Bhed.  "_Famlusa du ouin haf funmt_.  Welcome to your new world."  Saying this was a very old custom that had always puzzled Rikku, but it seemed appropriate now.  Spira truly _was_ a new world now, after all.

            Rikku twisted her arm around, the baby's tiny hand swinging slightly to maintain its death grip on the captured finger.  She found it in her heart to giggle, but only because of the baby.  But then, she looked into the eyes, and found them to be Lulu's.

            Rikku jerked away.

            "Lady—"

            She was standing up now, next to the nursemaid.  Rikku turned from the children.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  She—he?—looks like…the eyes…I…"

            "He does take after his mother," the old woman said softly.  "It has only been a few days since they were born, and already I know these children.  I looked after her…a long time ago.  And now again I see her…in the children's faces."

            "The poor things are so small."

            "That's the way it is with twins.  They came a little early, probably due to the stress of the storm.  But their mother was strong for them…  She was so happy to have her child born into this peaceful world, she told me.  The Eternal Calm."  The woman bent, in spite of her years, and touched each of the faces with as much softness as a feather.

            "Can I ask…was it the storm?  Did Lulu…?"

            "No.  It was childbirth…  The babies were in a bad position inside of her, so she…could not…  We had to…the children…"  Her words were all a blur now, and she fought back disturbing memories.  She remembered vividly her cursed task.  To take life from the lifeless…

            Rikku bit her lip hard, and it bled.  She licked the salty liquid away.  "How is Wakka?"

            "Sir Wakka is…like the walking dead himself.  He will just come and sit with the children for hours…  Either that or be by himself in the Chamber of the Fayth—like he is now, I fear.  It simply is not good for him."  She shook her gray-haired head.

            "The Chamber?"

            "It is where Lady Lulu…  During the storm, you see, it was the safest and warmest place in the temple."

            "Yes…"

            _Lulu.  You died in pain…  without us, you died in the dark…  You never got to see your own children.  Lulu…_

            "Lady Rikku?"

            "Excuse me…  I have to go…"  Rikku turned and ran for the sanctuary of the ship, somewhere to be by herself.

            Somewhere to weep.

-

            The days passed quickly.  Luckily, there was good weather for the next two weeks, which was when the greater part of the building was done.  Cid, upon receiving Zysac's message, had immediately sent a small supply ship, filled to the brim with the finest Al-Bhed engineers and all the latest machina tools.

            The days were hot and steamy, especially under the fire of a few dozen welding torches.  Most of the new homes and buildings were begun with metal frames, said to be sturdy enough for Mother Nature.  Wood was harvested from the fallen trees, and grasses were dried on tin sheets to be woven into new cloth.

            It took several days for the mood to switch over from melancholy to hopeful.  Everyone felt the pain of Lulu's death, and a proper funeral was held at the seaside, where flower petals were flung out to be carried away by the tide.  Wakka could not bear to go, and Rikku herself made an excuse.  Instead, she climbed a rock face and watched mournfully from above, shedding as many tears as all the villagers together.

           And yet, after this, the children were laughing again, darting around their parents' legs as they began to play tag once more.  The adults scolded them, told them to help out, but always a smile shown on the mothers' lips, and always a gleam in the fathers' eyes.  The elders chuckled, and went back to their weaving; sketching intricate patterns into what would be a wall soon, adding the finishing touches to a new blanket.

            Rikku sometimes paced through the village, Zysac at her heels, looking carefully around.  Besaid was rising from the ashes. Sort of like a phoenix.  Stronger than ever before, maybe.  Rikku wanted to smile, but found she could not.  Perhaps all her smiles had been used up in happier times.

            But then, two weeks after construction began, when foundations and frames were built and only the finishing touches were needed…  This day found one Al-Bhed in despair.  She retired to her captain's quarters, the sole occupant of the ship.

-

            Zysac returned to the ship early.  He had come to send the daily message to New Home.  He did so, again reporting that progress had been swift and bountiful, and that the engineers would probably be back by the end of the month to again take up their previous work.

            When he was about to disembark, the young man remembered not seeing Rikku anywhere outside for the past few hours.  He went to her room, and found the door slightly ajar.

            "Miss Rikku?"

            "Mmm?"

            He heard sniffling.  "Miss Rikku…"

            "Um…come in…"

            He came in to see Rikku stuffing tissues into the pockets of her dress.  She straightened her hair with quick fingers.  "Oh, Zysac," she sniffed.  "Need something?"

            "Well…"

            "Yeah?"

            "I don't mean to interrupt…  Um, I'll go…"  He turned around, but stopped himself.  Facing the empty metallic corridor, he spoke.  "Do _you_ need anything?"

            Rikku fell back on the bed, holding her face in her hands.  "What I need…"  She laughed, the sounds muffled, and it honestly scared him.

            Zysac looked at her, concern filling his spiraled, green eyes.  He lifted up his goggles and went to sit at her side.  Was there anything to say?

            "I didn't even tell her goodbye," Rikku declared suddenly, darkly.  Her eyes were focused straight ahead.  "Yuna and I didn't want Wakka to stop us, so we left right away.  He was _going to go get her_…  I could've seen her.  Maybe, if Yuna had been there, she could have done something with her magic…  Maybe, if I hadn't taken Yuna, Lulu would still be alive…"  _And Yuna wouldn't be captured somewhere…_

            "You didn't know what would happen."

            "I should have!  What kind of friend am I?  I hadn't seen Lulu for months and I just…!"  Her face was in her hands again.

            Zysac froze.

            She was _sobbing_.

            What was he supposed to do?  He couldn't help anybody.  Especially Rikku.  Rikku was strong.  She was happy and confident.  She was his captain, his senior, his mentor.  He was an assistant.  Her assistant.

            But he couldn't help her.

            "_Zysac_," she moaned, and fell into his arms.  "What am I supposed to do now?"

            Still frozen, he managed to wonder about the same thing.  Gradually, he melted, and placed his hands on her back.  "Miss Rikku…"

She cried into his chest, her hands clutching at the ties on his green jacket.

            Cautiously, he touched her hair.  What could he do, what could he do?  He could hardly carry her luggage or steer a vehicle.  His fingers fumbled over the communicator buttons.  All the other boys had always made fun of him.  And yet…

            "Miss Rikku, don't worry.  I'm here for you."

            He gulped.

            "Thank you," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest.  "Promise me, Zysac…  You won't go away.  Please…please don't.  Everybody I care about dies…"

            Zysac's shaking hand stroked her hair.  "I won't."

            She clung to him for a long time.

- - -

Author's Notes:

Whoops, a little short again.  Sorry.  Ooh…but what's happening to Yuna?  Stay tuned!


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